War of Angels
by The Aberrant One
Summary: After Buddy's attack on Mexico City, events are set in motion that threaten to bring the world one step closer to annihilation. However, there are various factions around the world who want to see this happen. And unfortunately, David Pine Flynn and his crew are caught in the crossfire. Sequel to "Awkward Times, Interesting Times" and the "Countdown" series.
1. Aftermath Part 1

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, don't own Incredibles. Aberrant and the characters associated are owned (in theory) by White Wolf publishing (though if I win the mega-millions, expect me to start looking to buy it). Incredibles, owned by Disney/Pixar, created by Brad Bird (who would probably kill me if he saw what I've done with his creation, but he's busy, has a real life and a real job, so I'm safe...:-D )

Gregory Paladino was created by a member of the Plothook crew (don't know his real name, but he was cool enough to let me use his character). Thank you, GP.

* * *

Author's Notes & Recap (for the newbies who are probably asking "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!")

For those of you just joining us (in other words, if you haven't read "Awkward Times, Interesting Times", then the "Countdown" series, or even the easily forgettable (but actually important) "The Dicker Files"), I'll try to give you a semi-quick recap of this sick and twisted 'verse you clicked onto (though you might want to read the aforementioned stories to get the full scoop). Normally I wouldn't do this, but hey...I don't want any potential newbies reading this being lost and going "WTF!".

First off, I moved up the time-line to the Incredibles, setting the events of the movie in the late 90s (I say 1998). I know, some purists may go "that's crap", but hey...if Batman: TAS can do it (city and setting had "1940s feel", but you had people walking around with laptops, cell-phones, and Internet), so can I.

Now, the recap. Shortly after the events of the movie, supers (those that were still around) were slowly being allowed to "return" to the public eye. However, something happened only a few months after the movie that totally changed things: the Galatea Research Space Station exploded in orbit, raining it's "radioactive" payload on Earth. Within hours of that "incident", the first new super-human manifested. More would follow over the next several months. These newly "erupted" super-humans were dubbed "Novas". After the Galatea incident and the emergence of these new "novas", someone realized something must be done to stabilize the situation and help curb any chaos that might occur (a nice and subtle way of saying "We need to control these people").

The Aeon Society (a secretive "philanthropic organization" that dates back to the 1920s based out of Chicago...yes, THAT is canon, I didn't make that up) approached the UN with a proposal to create a new organization that would help "make the Earth a better place" by helping newly erupted novas learn how to control their powers. This new organization would be called "Project Utopia" and with the assistance of novas in its employ, they did indeed make the world a better place, developing new technologies, helping clean up the environment, and doing all the good things that most "global approved" organizations do.

At least, that's on the surface of things. However, while most of the rank and file "Utopians" believe they're doing the right thing, their masters don't see things that way. Not only that, there are people around the world who suspect Utopia (or those behind it) have a darker agenda.

It's been eight years since the events of the movie and now things have exploded.

It started when a young man named David Pine Flynn suddenly surfaced, claiming the remains of his father's assets and creating a new company called Syndrome Software & Technologies. Needless to say, his arrival on the scene caused a headache to a lot of people in power worldwide (particularly Utopia, the NSA, and the Parr family).

A nova (or at least a super-powered being of some sort) himself, David has made it clear that he's not like his father, though he's opposed to Project Utopia to the point of openly defying them by hiring novas (or the children of the previous generation's supers) give them a chance of making a profit selling any new technological advancements they develop (as opposed to Utopia paying them a pittance, confiscating the new tech, and then sitting on it because they feel "humanity isn't ready for it yet"). Things finally came to a head when a Utopia "retrieval" team actually made the mistake of attacking SST's corporate headquarters in Metroville to acquire an "unregistered nova", Zoe Kilmarten.

The Utopia team was soundly defeated by the nova staff at SST (with a reluctant Violet Parr spearheading the fight against the Utopia team). The situation deteriorated into a public relations nightmare for Project Utopia when David Flynn released video footage of the fight to all media outlets worldwide showing that it was the Utopia team that was in the wrong, despite Utopia's claims that the SST staff attacked unprovoked.

Meanwhile, out in the Indian Ocean at a remote "containment and research facility", Buddy Pine (alive and well, despite having a cybernetic arm) quietly plotted his escape from C-12 (aka "The Neptune Facility"). His plans finally came to fruition using a jury-rigged "quantum projector" that caused a disaster of nearly biblical proportions that destroyed the facility, disrupted international shipping lanes in the area, and created several tsunamis that wiped out coastal villages and flooded several miles inland of various countries. Estimated body count: almost a million people.

After escaping to via an improvised teleportion device, Buddy managed to get a hold of some assets by killing a group of yakuza selling "second-rate" versions of some of his weapons, stealing their mega-yacht (blowing up a portion of the Port of Vancouver in British Columbia, Canada as a diversion), and then brokering a potential business deal with the people the yakuza was trying to do business with, an anti-nova human supremacist group known as The Church of Michael Archangel.

To prove to the Michaelites that he was on the level, Buddy made his way down the west coast of the US, pausing in San Francisco to murder a Utopian sponsored super team called the protectors. Though he killed most of the members, one person survived, but was in a coma. During his attack on the San Francisco waterfront, Buddy crossed paths with Jean-Paul Renard (son of Bomb Voyage), also known as the adrenaline junkie thrill-seeker/mercenary called Bomber. It was Bomber's interference that kept Buddy from killing the last member of the Protectors. After caving a building on Bomber and an unconscious Blazestone II, Buddy arranged a virtual conference with the leadership of the Michaelites.

Calling himself Gabriel, he informed them that he would give them one more "act of good faith" to demonstrate his technological capabilities. That "act" was the attack on Mexico City, one of Project Utopia's "restoration projects" and headquarters for the Americas cell of Team Tomorrow (Utopia's elite nova hero team). Using a modified cruise missile, Buddy disrupted all electronic communications coming to and from Mexico City (along with most electronic devices), then proceeded systematically slaughter Team Tomorrow Americas. He was then attacked by the nova terrorist Geryon (who had been trying to track down the murderer of the novas in San Francisco). Geryon managed to fight Buddy to draw, but Buddy immediately left (after Geryon ripped off his cybernetic arm which was rigged to explode if removed from Buddy's body). Geryon was about to give chase when three more cruise missiles slammed into Mexico City. Rigged with ZP technology, the cruise missiles hit three locations, burrowing beneath the city before detonating, causing an earthquake.

Meanwhile, other drama has happened. Helen revealed a dark secret to her family which left Dash angry (and he took it out by beating the crap out of David Flynn). Violet has accepted David's offer of being VP of SST and the Aeon Society received a new director who wants to take a more "proactive" approach in dealing with those who oppose her agenda of "creating a better world".

Oh, and two of the children of one of the heroes Buddy killed in the movie are quietly stalking David Flynn, preparing to assassinate him.

So, I think that covers most of the major plot elements so far, though I'm sure there's a few I missed, one of them intentionally. If you want more details, go read the other stories.

Now, for those of you who have been with me through this crazy ride so far, I will warn you right now, things are going to get a little dark from here (as if they haven't already). I've told some of you what I have planned (but not everything, or maybe I was lying to you), but it's going to get ugly.

Anyway...just wanted to warn you ahead of time.

Oh...and just for the record, this takes place between the second and third chapter of "Countdown: One"...about a day before Buddy's "sermon".

* * *

"_**It has been nearly two days since all forms of electronic communication in Northern Mexico had been disrupted. There have also been reports of aircraft losing control and literally falling out of the sky during the three hours the airspace was shrouded by what had been described as a 'Quantum Anomaly'. During those three hours, an earthquake measuring at least 8.6 on the Richter scale hit the city followed by several after-shocks that, while less powerful, were felt as far as the Southern United States.**_

"_**However, the widespread sporadic damage caused by these quakes pales in comparison to the devastation that hit Mexico City. Even though it's been two days and communications are being restored, reports of what actually happened are sketchy at best. In the meantime, aid and rescue teams from Project Utopia, the United Nations, various other countries, and even some non-affiliated private organizations are still trying to locate and help survivors...**_"

-N!Channel News

"_**Scattered reports from survivors of the tragedy in Mexico city have varied. Some claim there was a missile attack, others claimed there was a lone nova involved, and there have been claims that a member of the Teragen might have been involved. However, none of these reports have been confirmed. What can be confirmed, however, is the devastation is real, not just in Mexico city, but in surrounding areas as well..."**_

-ABC News

"_**Though the images coming from Mexico City clearly show the devastation that has hit what had been dubbed Project Utopia's 'Americas Crown Jewel' of accomplishment, it fails to show the full scale of what has happened. Since the re-establishment of communications, there have been reports of at least thirty downed aircraft in the Northern Mexico, with several more listed as missing. When approaching Mexico City from the ground, we passed by four locations where aircraft had gone down. Local emergency crews from nearby towns and villages helped with the disasters and search for survivors. Oddly enough, organizations like Project Utopia were absent from those incidents."**_

-Fox News

"_**Already, I'm starting to hear people complain about Project Utopia's lack of response to the accidents in Mexico. For crying out loud, people, Mexico City was fucking decimated and people are crying about how Project Utopia isn't sending people out to help a few downed aircraft. C'mon people, at least a million people died in Mexico city compared to the thousand or so in the aircraft. I know it's harsh, but Utopia has to prioritize which emergency has to be dealt with first."**_

"_**Besides, it's not like other people aren't helping. Various other organizations are stepping in, even that little shit David Flynn is sending some of his corporate assets to 'assist'. But let's be honest, the little fucker and his SST flock are just a bunch of vultures circling over the dead and dying. If Utopia's smart, they'll detain the little fucker and drag his sorry ass out of Mexico."**_

-The Brandi Miller Show, Air America

"_**Okay, a lot of people are still asking 'What are we going to do?', though it looks like various groups, other than just Utopia, are stepping up and helping out. But the other question people are asking, though they're not saying it out in the open yet, is 'Who did this?'. Say what you will about this being a freak act of nature, God, or whatever, let's be honest here folks. Someone targeted Mexico City and it seems that Utopia, its backers, and its critics are playing a blame game and pointing fingers at each other."**_

"_**Depending who you ask, the Teragen did it, Utopia actually orchestrated it, some rogue faction in the US government did it, some other nation did it, the theories range from reasonably plausible to outright insane, but, despite the rhetoric, no one seems to want to actually investigate this. Meanwhile, whoever truly was responsible, is probably sitting on his ass in the shadows somewhere, laughing their ass while they plot the next move. Wake up people, we're all being played!"**_

-The Duke Rollo Show, XM Radio

* * *

_**En Route towards Mexico City**_

_**48 hours after Incident**_

Despite being lightly bounced around in the passenger compartment of the Humvee, Gregory Paladino still managed to lightly doze off, mostly ignoring his fellow passenger who cursed every time the vehicle hit a rough spot in the terrain.

"Relax," he assured his companion, not even opening his eyes. "You get used to it."

The young reporter shook his head and looked at his cameraman with annoyance. "Okay, Greg, how do you do it?"

Greg opened one eye. "Do what, Ted?"

"Be able to sleep while we're being tossed around as our psychotic driver seems intent on running over obstacle in the road?"

"I heard that," piped up Maria Ortiz, their assigned technician and driver. To emphasize her point, the Humvee bounced again as she ran over some more uneven terrain.

"Crazy little bitch," Ted said, but Greg could tell that Ted was more amused than pissed off. Then again, from Greg heard about the man, Ted Richards was odd for a reporter. Most of the "young punks in the big time" would act like arrogant royalty, whining if they had to do more than just show up at a location, stand up in front of the camera, and rattle off prepared material. Only a couple years younger than Greg, Ted was one of those reporters who actually believed in the "old school" approach of actually looking for the story and being on the ground with the "grunts" instead of simply waiting until things were prepared for him. He also heard that's what got the reporter shit-canned from the ABC affiliate he was working with...well, that and telling veteran news anchor Charles Gibson to go fuck himself might had something to do with that.

Needless to say, Ted found himself blacklisted in the American market, but didn't complain too much since CTV was more than willing to snap him up. There were rumors that Lloyd Robertson personally pulled some strings to hire the young reporter on. Normally, someone from high-up pulling strings would have concerned Greg, but having met and worked with the "old man" at CTV, he was certain Ted was hired because of his "old school" attitude.

But that didn't surprise Greg, since Lloyd hired him on after his brief stint with Fox. The old man (he had to be somewhere in his seventies) had hired Greg after seeing some of the footage he shot of the earlier Mexico City quake back in '02. Greg, ignoring the Fox reporter he was assigned to, actually went into the remains of a crumbling building, his camera still running, because he heard someone crying for help. Even though he actually saved the lives of two children trapped inside, the reporter took the credit and threatened Greg to stay silent or risk losing his job. Greg responded by setting the camera down (forgetting that the thing was on live-feed at the time) and punched the reporter out.

Greg closed his eye. "It's very easy," he said in response to Ted's question. "I developed a skill called 'sleep ninja', allows me to sleep anywhere, no matter how uncomfortable it is. Takes a couple years to develop, but it's worth it."

"Yeah, but being driven around in an abused Humvee with a maniac at the wheel wasn't in the job description."

Maria giggled wickedly from up front.

"Don't see why you should be concerned about it," Greg said. "I thought you were used to this, having flown around in helicopters reporting on Heroin traffic in Afghanistan."

"Yeah, but that's different, people were shooting at us and we were in constant danger."

"Ah, I see." Greg grinned. "You're used to your life in peril, but you're not used to simply waiting in a vehicle and NOT being shot at? Okay, that makes sense. And that tells me you have issues."

"Says the man who hates flying."

"I don't hate flying, I just don't like flying in an airspace where aircraft have been falling out of the sky in the last two days."

"Good point," Ted conceded. "Though the fuel costs of this is going to be a bitch."

Greg propped himself up and turned to look out the back widow of the Humvee. He could see the convoy of vehicles behind them, some of them carrying news teams, but most were carrying medical workers and supplies. He was surprised that Lloyd had convinced CTV to arrange their LA bureau to bring in supplies, but was even more surprised when local businesses and a few non-affiliated networks also contributed, despite being told by Utopia reps to stay clear until they assessed the situation.

The Utopia response in and of itself told Greg that there was a story here. Advising people to stay away until they assessed the situation, but letting their own people in and focusing only on Mexico City while ignoring the other areas that were affected...oh yeah, there was definitely a story. Within twelve hours after the "Blue Haze" appeared, Greg found himself teamed up with Maria and Ted and on his way down to Mexico City, leading their little caravan of reporters and aid workers.

The next day and half consisted of their convoy stopping at four separate sites along the way where aircraft had gone down. A few of the vehicles stayed behind at each site, the emergency workers providing aid to those they could help and the reporters trying to get an account of what had happened, though it seemed most were willing to help with helping survivors when asked.

"This is fucking creepy," Greg mused allowed.

"Of course it's fucking creepy," Ted said. "We have a grisly trail of fallen aircraft that lead us to Mexico City."

"It's not that," Greg replied. "I feel like I've come full circle, I was down here a few years back in '02 when Mexico City first got hammered by a quake."

"Ah, yes," Ted said a wistful look on his face as he leaned back in his seat. "2002, back before Utopia had changed the place. Back when we had corrupt politicians on both sides of the border, illegal immigration problems, drug running, and potential border wars breaking out...I really miss those days, so peaceful compared to now."

"Yeah, Utopia supposedly 'fixed' that." Greg didn't bother to hide his disgust. He knew that showing any kind of disrespect for the UN backed organization probably killed some career prospects for him, but he didn't care. "And I have to tell you, Ted, this is uglier than it was in '02."

"No shit," Maria said from up front. "According to the reports we're getting, the count is up to twenty-one planes downed that we know of, and we're not even-OH MY GOD!"

Both Greg and Ted looked out the front window as Maria brought the Humvee to a stop. Even though it was still several miles away, Greg could still see the smoke plumes coming from where the city should be. Even at this distance, he should have been able to at least see some of the skyscrapers that made up the city's skyline...skyscrapers that weren't there anymore.

The rest of the convoy came to a stop behind them as Greg and Ted got out of the Humvee, Greg activated his camera and zoomed in, making some modifications on his camera to see through the haze. "Holy shit," he muttered.

"What do you got?" Ted asked.

Greg wordlessly handed the reporter the camera, not standard practice in this industry, but Ted was familiar enough with the equipment and had no problem using the controls. Ted didn't say anything as he focused on what was left of Mexico City, but his complexion paled and his jaw dropped as he saw the crater where the center of Mexico City used to be. What was more grisly was that it wasn't an empty, smoking crater, but there were remnants of high-rise buildings and skycrapers now lying in an over-sized pile of rubble. It looked as if the ground beneath their foundations had suddenly disappeared and they had fallen into each other as they collapsed.

The crater itself was at least a mile wide. Several fires had ignited throughout the entire city and were still going strong. Even though they were a few miles away, the three of them could smell the smoke and other scents that were carried on the light wind.

Ted handed the camera back to Greg, pausing for a moment to cross his heart and mumble a silent prayer. "Okay," he finally said, "we have to get down there."

One of the drivers of the other aid vehicles came up to them, carrying a cell-phone. "We got a problem, Mr. Richards."

"What is it?"

"A Utopia rep, they're telling us that we're being tracked and we are to stop our approach. And they want to know why you didn't answer your phone."

"Probably because I turned the damn thing off a couple hours ago so I couldn't be bothered by them," Ted said. Despite the situation, Greg caught himself smirking at the reporter's comments. That was another reason he and Ted got along, their mutual distrust of Utopia.

"Well, they're really pissed."

"I don't care, they're fucking hiding something and we got people dying over there who need the supplies we're bringing in. Here, give me that." He took the phone from the aid-worker. "This is Richards," he said, pushing the speaker button on the phone so they could all hear.

"Richards?" A voice asked. "Ted Richards from CTV?"

"Yeah, to who am I speaking?"

"This is Saxon of Team Tomorrow. You're a long way from Canada, boyo."

Richards tilted his head slightly. "And you're a long way from Europe, Saxon. What brings the European branch of T2M here? Or did they just send you?"

"That is none of your concern," the nova at the other end of the line snapped. "You and the rest of you baselines stay away until we've cleared the area of any threats."

"Wow...so 'high and mighty', are we? Covering up something?"

"Careful Richards, we know where you are, we can see you and your little caravan."

"Yeah, good for you. Unlike you, this little 'caravan' has stopped at a few accident scenes on our way here and tended the wounded...something that your employers should be doing, but they seem to be absent. Care to comment on that?"

No response came from other end and the line went dead. Ted shook his head and handed the phone back to the aid worker. "I guess, not," he said.

A beam of light suddenly shot down out of the sky, impacting the ground only a dozen feet ahead of their Humvee and then burning a line in the ground. Everyone looked up, Greg bringing up his camera and focusing on a lone figure in the sky who was now descending towards them.

"Holy shit," muttered Ted. "Is that Caestus Pax?"

"Yep," Greg replied as he continued to shoot footage. "It looks like he's laying down the law."

"Tell me you're getting this."

"We're getting it," Greg said. Then he realized Pax was looking straight at him. "And now he's heading over here."

A few seconds later, the nova landed right where he had burned a line in the ground and walked towards them. "You will remain here," he said, his voice taking on that annoying tone of authority that made it sound as if he were talking down to children in grade-school. "The situation is unsafe for you."

"Bullshit," Richards said, stepping up to Pax. "People are dying in that city."

"We are responding to situation and providing aid to the survivors."

"Really?" The tone in Ted's voice told Greg he wasn't buying it and, truth be told, neither was he. "So, out of curiosity, how come T2M Americas isn't handling this?"

Before Greg could react, Pax had suddenly become a blur, instantly closing the distance between them and putting his hand over the camera lens. "This interview is now over," he said. "Now you will remain here until we declare the area safe, but if you-" Pax stopped in mid-sentence as the sound of rotor-blades could be heard. Greg studied him for a moment, noting Pax's expression go from one of arrogance to outright disgust and hostility. "No," the man half-snarled. "Not now."

They all looked up as three Chinook helicopters began to approach, two of them starting to descend alongside, but a safe enough distance away from the convoy. The third Chinook hovered over them for a few more seconds before descending on the other side of the line Pax had burned into the ground. If Greg hadn't known any better, he was wondering if whoever was piloting that helicopter had deliberately chosen to land there. He managed to step away from Pax who now seemed to be focusing on the helicopter, obviously forgetting about Greg and his camera.

Greg had the camera zoom in on the company logo on the helicopter which he identified as a CH-47D, obviously a former military craft. However, the company logo said "Sefton Heavy Salvaging", which told Greg that whoever owned "Sefton Salvaging" must have had a lot of cash to afford buying expensive military-grade hardware. The side-door opened up on the Chinook and Greg almost dropped the camera in shock as he saw who exited the craft.

_No...fucking...way!_

Trembling for a second, he managed to regain his composure and kept the camera going as a young red-haired man, flanked by a large black muscular man and a tall amazonian woman, approached them.

_Bryan and Lydia were right, he looks just like his father._

"You have no business here," Pax rumbled, his threatening tone making it obvious that he didn't care much for this person.

The young red-haired man shook his head and smirked at Pax, obviously not cowed by Pax's attempt at intimidation. "Whatever, Pax, just do the guard-dog thing elsewhere," he said, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Pax. "As soon as you're done barking, take the time to read that. It's a emergency order given to me by the US government, authorizing me to be down here." He then stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Though, truth be told, I was forced to come down here by the NSA. Personally, I'd be more than willing to let you handle this, fuck it up, and then come in and clean up your mess."

"Watch yourself, Flynn," Pax warned him. "You're not in the US, and the NSA can't protect you."

David Flynn, to Greg's astonishment, didn't even blink as he looked up at Pax. "Careful, Pax, you don't want the world to see your true face now, do you?" He chuckled and stepped past Pax to approach Greg and Ted, extending his hand. "Sorry about the late arrival," he said. "I'm David Flynn, and I'm here to help."


	2. Aftermath Part 2

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, don't own Incredibles. This is merely a work of a demented mind having fun with someone else's property. Although, again, if I win the Mega-Millions, I would be calling White Wolf and asking them to sell the rights to Aberrant (since they've abandoned that franchise). As for the Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird, and no way they would part with that property...and I'm really glad none of the Pixar people read fanfics, or my head would be on a pike somewhere by now...just kidding...I hope.

Penny Sefton, owned and created by CrazyStick. Jake Peters and Gregory Paladino are courtesy of the crazed madmen of Plothook. Damon belongs to DA1&Only/FicCheck (or whatever her FFN name is). Thanks to all of you for letting me use your creations.

Author's Notes: Well, here we are again, another update. More plotting, more planning, more craziness. Again, writing this isn't so bad since I have large chunks of it floating around on a couple computers and I did most of my world-building in "Awkward Times" and the "Countdown" series...oh, and Dicker Files.

* * *

_I remember when we fought Syndrome, there is something he said that scares the hell out of me, even to this day._

"_I'll give them heroics. I'll give them the most spectacular heroics they've ever seen! And when I'm old and I've had my fun, I'll sell my inventions so everyone can be superheroes! Everyone can be super! And when everyone's super, no one will be."_

_Mom and Dad simply dismissed it as a ranting madman, and he was. But with Galatea happening right after that, all these new "novas" surfacing since then, and various organizations pushing for control and trying to determine what's best for the world, I've been remembering those words._

_And you know what, they scare me more now than they did back then._

-Violet Parr, Personal Journal Entry

* * *

_How the hell did I end up in this situation?_

That was the one thought that kept going through Jake Peter's mind as he and Penny Sefton flanked David Flynn as they walked away from the Chinook CH-47D helicopter that had brought him down here into Mexico. It was hard to believe that, only a couple days ago, he was just minding his own business, eating at a local diner, and enjoying the life of a free-lance nova bodyguard mulling over assorted job offers.

_Then a mysterious blond woman appears, offers me a job to body guard some mega-genius punk-ass white boy, which I agree to. I manage to lie my way into a job, and now I'm following the aforementioned mega-genius punk to a face off with Caestus fucking Pax!_

He kept his expression cold and neutral, something he had learned early on in his career. Staying frosty is what kept people in his line of work alive...when they weren't marching off to face off against one of the most powerful novas on the face of the planet. He glanced over at Penny Sefton, the CEO and owner of Sefton Heavy Salvaging, and managed to suppress a shudder as the seven and a half foot tall amazon with blood red hair tied back in a pony-tail quietly walked alongside him. He only talked to her briefly, and it was weird seeing this red-headed amazon calmly lifting heavy machinery with one hand and going over engineering stats with Damon Best.

He briefly glanced back at the helicopter and nodded at Damon who was sitting in the cockpit talking to the pilot. The younger black man nodded back at him and then disappeared back into the Chinook's cargo bay. As they approached Caestus Pax, who was in the middle of talking to a TV reporter when they arrived (at least that's how it looked, but the TV crew didn't seem too thrilled to be talking to Pax), Jake heard David Flynn say, "Don't say anything, just try to act as cold and professional as you can, while I handle Captain Q-Ball."

Jake was very thankful that he was disciplined enough to maintain his cold demeanor, because he barely managed to choke back a snicker at David's comment. He glanced back at Sefton again, and saw the corner of her mouth twitch for a moment before becoming a thin and neutral line.

"You have no business here," Pax rumbled as they approached him.

Jake watched in disbelief as the kid stood right in front of Pax, looking up at him, and smirked at Project Utopia's most powerful nova.

"Whatever, Pax," David said as he pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and handed it to Pax. "Just do the guard-dog thing elsewhere. As soon as you're done barking, take the time to read that. It's an emergency order given to me by the US government, authorizing me to be down here." Then, to Jake's surprise, David took another step toward Pax, standing only inches away, and still kept eye-contact as he lowered his voice. "Though, truth be told, I was forced to come down here by the NSA. Personally, I'd be more than willing to let you handle this, fuck it up, and then come in and clean up your mess."

_Shit, this kid has some balls._

"Watch yourself, Flynn," Pax growled. "You're not in the US, and the NSA can't protect you."

Again, to Jake's disbelief, David held his ground. "Careful, Pax, you don't want the world to see your true face now, do you?"

Jake saw Pax's face redden for a moment and he could have sworn the nova's eyes briefly glowed, but David didn't seem to care and simply stepped past Pax, extending his hand to the television reporter. "Sorry about the late arrival," David said. "I'm David Flynn, and I'm here to help."

"Project Utopia has good reason to keep this area quarantined," Pax said, trying to sound diplomatic and commanding, but it was obvious that he was going for intimidation. "This region recently experienced a cataclysmic event."

"Yeah, no shit," David shot back. "The trail of fallen aircraft that we followed on our way here was a big fucking clue." He turned to look back at Pax, the smirk replaced by a look of mild disgust. "But you wouldn't know a thing about that, would you, Pax? After all, Utopia's crown jewel of the Americas is far more important than a few planes full of civilians, right? Tell me something, do you think they'll be simply listed as 'collateral damage' or 'acceptable losses'?"

Before anyone could react, Pax "blurred" one moment, then was grabbing David by the front of his jacket and lifting him off the ground the next.

"You little shit!" Pax snarled. "You don't have a clue what you're playing at, do you?"

Jake watched disbelievingly as David shook his head and chuckled. "Oh yeah, that will play really good in the media," David said, turning to look at the cameraman who was catching everything on camera. "Hope you're getting this, people," he said.

Jake noticed that a couple other media personnel had also gotten out of their vehicles and were filming the incident.

"Go ahead, Pax," David said. "Beat the shit out of me and then use your powers to destroy all the cameras and try to intimidate everyone into silence. I'd be curious to see if you can pull it off. Though I'm sure rumors will begin to circulate and that might hurt the sales of the next batch of action figures made in your likeness."

"Don't tempt me, Flynn," Pax hissed, his eyes actually glowing this time. Then the glow faded as he realized that he truly was being filmed by multiple cameras belonging to at least half a dozen media outlets, and none of them were N!Channel affiliates. After a moment of deliberation, he dropped the young man to the ground, turned around, and started to walk away. "You may set up a base of operation here," he said. "Representatives will be here in a couple hours to escort you through the city." He then took to the air, floating there for a moment to glare at David before flying off toward the ruined city.

As Pax flew away, Jake turned to see his employer getting back up on his feet, grinning as he brushed some of the dust off his jacket.

_This kid is fucking insane!_

"Well," David said as he looked off at the remains of Mexico City in the distance. "I guess we have our 'official' orders from high and mighty Utopia." He then looked over at Penny. "So I guess this is where we'll set up camp." He paused and Jake followed his gaze and noticed that Penny Sefton was now smirking. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Penny said, a giggle now breaking the 'cold and professional' facade she had worn. "Your father never had the balls to do that."

Jake saw David's expression darken for a moment, before disappearing behind an almost convincing smile. "My _father_, the guy who raised me and who I refer to as 'Dad', is a good man," he said. Though the tone was light, the next words were loaded with venom. "My genetic sperm donor was a psychopath who never grew a real pair or even knew how to properly use them."

Now Jake was trying not to laugh. He had heard the stories about David's real father, even read a couple articles. He remembered thumbing through an issue of N!ovax magazine that gave an extremely biased view about David Flynn. The article had gone so far as to hint that fruit didn't fall that far from the tree and David could easily be the next 'Big Bad', possibly surpassing his father. However, from what he'd seen of the kid in the last couple days, Jake didn't think David fell into the 'Big Bad' category.

_Though he probably could if he was pushed in that direction._

"It seems a lot of people expect you to be like him, Mr. Flynn," he said. "Utopia and their media affiliates are just dying to make you a scapegoat."

David shook his head at him. "First off, stop calling me 'Mr. Flynn'. My name's David, if you don't like that, just call me Flynn. And, you're right, I'm sure Utopia's little lemming feeders will probably try to find some way to blame me for this."

"Well, can you blame them?" asked a new voice, causing them to turn and look at the reporter and his cameraman that were originally talking to Pax. "You've made it clear that you're no friend of Project Utopia." The reporter didn't seem too intimidated by the fact that he was talking to a 'renegade' CEO flanked by two obvious novas. "Ted Richards, CTV news."

David stepped towards the man and extended his hand again. "Richards, the former ABC reporter, right?" he asked, shaking the man's hand. "So you're the CTV rep that Lloyd sent down. How is the old man?"

Richards was thrown off guard when his boss' name was mentioned so casually by David. "Um, he's fine, still calling the shots as always."

"Good to know," David said. "I asked him to send someone who's not afraid to get their hands dirty when actually trying to dig up the truth." He then motioned at the other news crews that were getting out of their vehicles and setting up camp. "Though I am surprised he was able to get a small coalition of other networks to jump in on this."

As Jake stood by and guarded David, Penny Sefton returned to the Chinook and came back a few minutes later with Damon Best. A half hour after that, the rest of the personnel on the other helicopters, along with the aid teams from the caravan were setting up a portable "crisis command center" and hospital. After David had given an interview with the CTV reporter, he motioned for Jake to follow him. They walked over to where one of the other Chinooks was parked, and then David took a quick look around before he spoke. "Hell of a way to start a new job, isn't it?"

"Well, it's not boring," Jake said, taken by surprise at David's casual attitude. "I've seen a lot of crazy shit in my line of work."

David looked up at him and smiled, a cold gleam in his eye as he spoke. "As a bodyguard or in whatever line of work you had before that?"

To his own credit, Jake didn't flinch or tense up, though he was chalking up his lack of reaction to the way David brought it up. In fact, from the way David was talking, he could tell the kid was studying his reaction, sizing him up.

_It's obvious he knows something, no sense in denying anything. Might as well see how this plays out._

"Let's just say that I'd seen enough things that made body guarding look like a 'safe' career choice."

David said nothing for moment, and then nodded. "Fair enough, I'm not going ask you about your past, but I just want you to know that I know you probably worked for some agency.' He smiled again. "In fact, I'm pretty sure that you didn't take this job on your own and that you're probably working for someone else."

"And you still hired me on?" Jake asked.

David shrugged. "Really doesn't make a difference. I mean, going through your record, there was enough _lack_ of digital finger prints to tell me that I was looking at a ghost job, and a damn good one at that. Not even Utopia can pull something like that without leaving a trail. Truth be told, Null and Violet suggested I should have Larry throw you out on your ear."

"Why haven't you?"

"Because, Mr. Peters…Jake, you're not Utopia, and not exactly corporate espionage material. No offense."

"None taken."

"So that tells me you're either NSA or someone else, possibly Directive, but there are other players out there. At the moment, I don't care and I have more important things to deal with. Besides, you know the old saying: keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer."

"I'm not your enemy," Jake said. _Even though I might eventually be ordered to kill you_, _but I'm not going to tell you that._

"Never said you were," David said, a haunted look in his eyes that still remained there even as he chuckled. "Besides, you'd have to take a number and wait in line."

"Okay, I know it's not my place, but who…no…what are you exactly? No offense, Flynn, but most eighteen year old kids don't run corporations or play politics. In fact, someone like you should be looking at college, or at least partying and getting drunk with his friends."

Again, David smiled at him, but this time it was with actual amusement. "You're not afraid to ask questions, Jake, I like that."

"But you're not going to answer my question, are you?"

David shook his head. "Nope. You got your secrets, I got mine. Eventually, however, we're both gonna' have to come clean, but not now." He looked in the distance at the still smoldering ruins of Mexico City and the haunted look was back as he followed one of the smoke plumes up into the cloudy sky. "A storm's coming," he said, though it was obvious that he was making more than just an observation. "Hopefully we can clear things up before then."

As they headed back towards the encampment, Jake couldn't help wondering if his employer was referring to the actual storm coming or something else entirely. The implications of that thought made him involuntarily shudder and, for what had to be the millionth time, he asked himself the same question he'd been asking himself when he first stepped through the doors of SST.

_What the fuck did I get myself into?_

* * *

Damon Best hadn't meant to overhear the conversation between David Flynn and Jake Peters. He actually had a reason to go to one of the other CH-47Ds: to get more cable for one of the winches on the main chopper. In fact, he was already on the chopper when he saw them walk around to the other end, presumably away from the general public. Needless to say, that conversation proved to be very enlightening.

When he first received an e-mail a few weeks ago from SST, talking about a potential job offer, he turned it down. He was making more than enough with Penny's salvaging operation which allowed him to put his engineering skills and pyrokinetic powers to good use. It wasn't until a few days later that his ex-girlfriend, Violet Parr, contacted him with the same job offer. Initially, he wasn't going to take the offer because, even though he and Violet parted on good terms, it still felt that there would have been some unresolved "issues" between them. However, when he learned that she was working for "the son of Syndrome", he already knew that bad shit was coming down the pipe, especially after reading about the "slight misunderstanding" between a Project Utopia "incident response team" and employees of SST.

What surprised him even more was his own employer, Penny Sefton, telling him to take the job. Then again, Violet Parr was also Sefton's goddaughter, so it didn't surprise Damon that Penny decided to return to Sefton Heavy Salvaging's Metroville branch and make it their primary base of operations. She said it was a temporary set-up and that their main Sad Diego office was still operating (though some key personnel were transferred up to Metroville). While he didn't know the whole story about "Syndrome", his uncle Lucius had given him enough information a couple years ago that actually had him throwing up for the better part of an hour. So, it did seem something of a shock when his ex called him and invited him to work for the son of that the psychotic bastard who killed several supers.

However, after seeing David in action the last couple days and talking to Violet, Damon was sure that David Flynn was definitely not 'Syndrome Jr.'. In fact, he wondered if the story behind the name of David's company had more than a bit of truth to it. The only anger and hostility that Flynn seemed to openly display was towards Utopia and T2M, particularly Caestus Pax.

But Damon also saw another side to David Flynn when Mexico City got hit. He was in Flynn's office for a private interview when Flynn suddenly flinched in mid-sentence and twitched for a second, making Damon wonder if the kid was having some sort of seizure. Then Flynn looked up at him, a horrified look in eyes as he said, "We just lost Mexico City". Over the next few hours, Damon was helping Flynn and others coordinate rescue and aid efforts. Flynn himself wasn't planning on going to Mexico City, explaining that the last thing he wanted was to give Utopia a chance to take him out. At first, Damon though Flynn was just making a bloated claim, but then he realized that Utopia did send a team to attack SST.

Then Richard Dicker of the NSA showed up in a limo about two hours after "The Blue Haze" appeared and ordered David to oversee the efforts he was putting together. There were a couple moments of a silent face-off between the two, but Flynn nodded in agreement and Dicker promptly turned around, got back in his limo, and left.

_And now...here we are._

The conversation he just overheard with Peters and Flynn made it very clear to Damon that there was something going on, he could feel it. Whatever happened in Mexico City was just the beginning, and that scared the shit out of him.

_Okay, enough of the paranoia, just grab the cable, rig up the main chopper, and then freak out later._

Damon prided himself on the fact that, even while about to panic, his engineering mind-set would kick in and try to make sense out of the situation. It was very calming, but it still didn't make him feel any better. He returned back to the main chopper, bringing the cable on a hand-truck. After rigging up the cable to the winch, he then went looking for Penny to tell her what he overheard.

* * *

Director Thetis sat in her office, watching the brief thirty second footage of Caestus Pax hoisting David Flynn off the ground and threatening him. The footage then cut to a live-feed of CTV anchor Lloyd Robertson finishing up the report, citing that "Project Utopia, so far, has refused to comment" and then promising to follow up on the story as it further developed.

She shook her head in annoyance and tapped a key on her computer, which killed the flat-screen TV mounted on her wall, and returned her attention to the computer monitor, which displayed a live-feed video from one of her operatives in Mexico City.

"I must say, Johann," she said, "the last hour has been very embarrassing for us."

The dark haired man on the screen, wearing the uniform of a UN aid worker, nodded. "My apologies, Director, but it was your decision to limit media access to Mexico City. We did not know that Flynn and his allies could move so quickly."

"Understandable," Thetis conceded, "but I do not understand why you paid little attention to the downed aircraft outside the city. "They've been using that to crucify us in the media."

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, prompting Thetis to suspect something.

"Is there something I should know, Johann?" she asked, noting the man was starting to sweat at the other end of the line and it wasn't because of the weather.

Agent Johann Suart fidgeted for a moment before answering, shaking his head. "My apologies, Director," he said. "There is nothing you need to know at this time."

And there it was, something Thetis was starting to suspect. "Nothing _**I**_ need to know?" she repeated. "You do realize I am the Director of Proteus, you answer to me, correct?"

"Yes, Director, but I also answer to people who exceed your authority, particularly when it concerns their personal security."

Thetis resisted the urge to swear. But Johann's comments made it clear, she was deliberately kept out of the loop, and there was only one person who could do that. She folded her hands in front of her and smiled. "I see," she said. "So I assume that Phillipa Lavielle has been taking an active role in this situation."

"Yes, ma'am." Johann seemed relieved that Thetis figured it out, which meant he didn't have to lie to her. "She's on her way down here to personally look over the situation."

"So, has she seen the incident regarding Caestus Pax and David Flynn?"

"Yes, Director, but she said that was a Proteus problem and Proteus can deal with it."

_Ah, so that's how it's going to be played, is it?_

"Very well, Johann, here's what I want you to do. Arrange for some of our representatives from T2M to meet with the SST group and escort them through the city, but pull Pax out and have him sent elsewhere. He's already done enough damage within that thirty seconds off footage and it's going to take at least day of 'positive' broadcasting to bury that story." She paused for a moment as she considered her next move. "In fact if we can get footage of the SST crew and T2M working together, it might undo the damage."

_Some of the damage, but not all of it._

"Yes, Director. Suart out." The small window blinked out, replaced by data being sent in from other field agents.

Thetis then turned her attention to Ozaki who was sitting in the chair across from her desk. "Well," she said, "you were right. It would seem that Lavielle is trying to cut us out of the loop."

"Not unexpected." Ozaki took a sip from his tea cup before continuing. "She had assumed power and now she wants to consolidate it, isolating those she sees as a threat."

"And by doing so, she threatens to destabilize everything," Thetis snapped. "It's bad enough that we had to burn much of our resources to contain the fall-out from Galatea, now she's threatening to reveal us through her actions."

"It could be argued that she's merely accelerating the plan." A grim smile formed on Ozaki's lips. "Then again, it could also be argued that we brought this on ourselves."

"If you're referring to Buddy Pine, keep in mind that you also voted in favor of that proposal. That madman is now on the loose, his body count now stands at somewhere over two million, and that's just in the last month alone." Thetis shook her head and smiled sadly. "Mirage was right, we shouldn't have let him loose. And now, with him out there and a viper in our own ranks...it's gotten out of control."

"Then what do you suggest, Director?" Ozaki asked as he placed the now empty tea cup on Thetis' desk.

"We need to prioritize our threats try to stabilize the situation."

"A logical analysis, but given the magnitude of the threats we face, which one has the highest priority?"

Thetis cold smile of resolve already told Ozaki the answer before she even spoke it.

"Director Lavielle needs to be eliminated."


	3. Aftermath Part 3

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, Pixar and Brad Bird do. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (but that will change if I ever when the Mega-Millions). Gregory Paladino was created by a crazy member of the Plothook crew, don't know his real name, but that was his character and I'm glad that he lets me use and abuse his creation.

Author's notes: Okay, update is a little late but it's up. First off, relax, the Aftermath storyline is only going to be about five or seven parts. Right now we're just following up the three days after Buddy hit Mexico City. For a reference point, this stuff is happening between chapter two and chapter three of "Countdown: One".

As usual, I want to thank the usual suspects who are starting to get too numerous to name, though Shannon gets a shout out since she's usually the one beating me up online and asking me when the next update is coming. I also noticed I'm getting a lot of traffic from the international community. I did some checking and, if FFN, is to be believed, I've got a regular audience from other countries. And for that, I just want to say thanks, especially to the unknown guy from the Russian Federation who keeps checking it out.

To all of you, though, I really want to say thanks for sticking around. And, as usual, feedback, comments, and maybe the occasional threat is welcomed on th review board (okay, maybe not the threat, but feedback and comments are nice). Hope to hear from you.

Just to warn you, not much action going on here. But for those of you who have been around, this is going to answer that question I've been hit with by certain White Wolf fans who stumbled across this fic: "Whatever happened to Geryon?"

Here's you answer, hope you like it. Walker of the Wheel, if you're reading this, I know Geryon/James Booth is a rampaging Terat, but I hope you like where I'm going to take this character. Don't worry, he'll still be a Terat, but let's just say I'm trying to give him a bigger role in this (yes, Geryon and Leviathan were two of my favorite characters in that game...don't know why though).

And now...on with the show.

* * *

"_**Good evening. The devastation of Mexico City has shaken the world and has many asking the question of what happened. However, it appears that many more are asking another question: why aren't there more coordinated aid efforts among the international community? While Project Utopia seems more concerned with handling Mexico City, it appears that they seem less focused on the devastation to the rest of the region..."**_

_**-Lloyd Robertson, CTV News.**_

"_**Though Utopia's been rather lackluster in responding to the region outside Mexico City, many smaller organizations from abroad, along with private corporate concerns, have been stepping forward to help."**_

_**-Fox News**_

"_**I think they're being unfair to Utopia. I mean, Mexico City is a large city. We're talking at least 12 million people here since Utopia made it their Americas base of operation. That is a higher priority than the smaller surrounding towns and the occasional downed aircraft. In fact, it sounds to me like certain American politicians and special interest groups are manipulating peoples perception and using this to justify their own anti-Utopia agenda."**_

_**-Hardball with Chris Matthews**_

"_**Despite objections by Project Utopia, a convoy of vehicles and helicopters pushed their way into Mexico, claiming to be providing humanitarian aid. Led by SST CEO David Flynn and including non-Utopia media personnel and a meager contingent of medical personal, they managed to make it to Mexico City. After negotiations with Utopia representatives, they were permitted to set up their small encampment outside of Mexico City and would be permitted to assist with the aid effort as long as they were accompanied by qualified Utopia aid and rescue personnel."**_

_**-Sarah Branton, N!Channel news.**_

* * *

Darkness...darkness and pain, a stabbing pain in his chest to be exact, were the first things he was aware of when he regained consciousness. Of course, a split second later, his brain finally registered what was happening and he let out a scream of agony, the roar echoing through the darkness. Even as his eyes adjusted, allowing James to see in the dark, it didn't change the fact that there was an I-Beam protruding from his chest and he was choking on something that he couldn't identify at first until the realization hit him.

_That's my own blood I'm choking on…what the fuck happened to me?_

"Now that's a good question," he heard someone say in the darkness. There was something familiar about the voice, but he couldn't place it. "Don't you remember?"

In response to that question, images flashed through his brain.

An explosion creating a blue haze up in the sky.

A man in black powered-armor of some sort slaughtering the members of the T2M cell in Mexico City.

The armored stranger tossing him around like a rag-doll with that funky blue energy field coming out of

the armor's gauntlets.

Him ripping the armored man's cybernetic right arm off at the shoulder and it exploding in his face, causing the man to escape and fly away.

The missiles soaring overhead before impacting somewhere in the city.

The sudden earthquake and him falling as a sinkhole opened up underneath him before he was buried by rubble.

He felt pain and then…oblivion.

The images faded away as James turned his head to look at his surroundings. There was the occasional electrical spark here and there and the trickling of water. He could also smell sewage which told him that a sewer line broke somewhere. He realized that the small cavern he was in was apparently part of the underground subway system.

_Somehow I lucked out and it formed some sort of bubble around this section._

He cried out in pain again.

"You've got a weird definition of luck there, 'mate," the voice in the shadows said.

"Who's there?" James called out. He strained to look in the shadows and could barely make out the faint silhouette of a man standing there. "I can see you."

"Can you?" the man asked, chuckling as he moved in the shadows. "Maybe you're just seeing things, hallucinating from your injuries. I mean, if it were me with an I-Beam through my chest, I'd probably be seeing things too."

James roared at the man. "When I get out of this, I'm going to break your fucking back."

The man in the shadows laughed again and James couldn't figure out what was more unnerving, the man's laughter or the fact that he sounded too damn familiar. "Now that," the figure said as he stepped out of the shadows and into James' field of vision, "would be on interesting sight to see."

James choked in disbelief as he saw the man step forward. "No," he said. "It's not…not…"

"Not what," James Booth said as he reached into his coat, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. "Not possible?" He took a small puff off the cigarette and then returned his attention to his monstrous self still impaled by the I-Beam. "When you're dyin', Jimmy me boyo, anything is possible."

* * *

Greg Paladino sat at a small table, going through the video footage he took, using his laptop to edit and cut what he had taken. Normally, Maria Ortiz would be doing that, but she was exhausted from helping set up camp and needed a couple hours sleep. He looked over and saw she was curled up in the corner of the large tent that was used as a dining/break area for the aid workers and assorted media personnel. Greg himself was exhausted, but he just couldn't get to sleep, so he decided that some "boring cut 'n edit" work would either possibly pass the time or bore him to the point of passing out.

They had been there for twelve hours and, what had been a barren piece of land out in the desert a few miles out from Mexico City had been turned into a hotbed of activity. A couple of modular prefabricated buildings had been set up and served as a medical treatment facility and makeshift command center. They buildings were surrounded by a several tents brought in by members of the convoy as well as refugees who had managed to make it out of the city. Some of the tents were used as recovery wards for those treated at the facility, but most were being used as shelter by those who had horrific tales to tell.

Greg and Ted had already been to the city and back once, talking to survivors and gathering video footage. Though the Utopian team they were stuck with did look over their shoulders and prevented them from wanting go into certain areas of the city, they weren't too restrictive. It was kind of hard to be when there was more than enough devastation going around. They were ordered to stay away from what had been the center of the city, but they were permitted to be along the perimeter of what had been labeled "Zone Red".

Truth be told, Greg felt the whole damn city should have been designated as "Zone Red". The main nerve-center of the city that served as the location for the seat of government and where the Mexico International Stock Exchange as well as other key government and international buildings were located was the hardest hit. The quake caused that section of the city to literally collapse on itself, sky-scrapers and other high-rise buildings were demolished, though their remains were stacked upon each other like a pile of hastily gathered firewood. Then there was the surrounding devastation throughout the rest of the city. Though not quite as severe as the downtown area, Greg was certain that about half the structures still standing would more than likely have to be demolished.

It was a surreal moment for him, being here four years later after a previous quake had hit the area in '02. The '02 quake was nasty, but this one was far worse. He and Ted had heard many stories from various survivors, but it seemed most of them didn't know what had happened outside the quake itself. Most of the stories were the same: there was an explosion high up in the sky and there was this blue "rippling wave" above the city. A scary story to be sure, but it wasn't enough to explain why Utopia was being so tight-lipped about this. In fact, they were more concerned with searching the city center than the rest of the area.

Of course, it could be argued that they were simply looking for survivors and helping to secure the area, but Greg could tell that most of the nova personnel working the area were looking for something else other than survivors. More than once he and Greg were talking to a couple of people who they found just outside Zone Red and they were taken into Utopia custody. Though Greg's Spanish wasn't the greatest, he picked up something from one of the refugees about Team Tomorrow Americas and how "the black death killed them". Before he could get more information from the young man Utopia personnel showed up to take him to a "better equipped facility to treat his injuries".

That tended to be the general operating procedure here at what had been erroneously dubbed "Camp Patchwork" by the media. It was originally made as an offhand comment by a young black nova that had arrived on one of the Sefton Heavy Salvaging helicopters. The nova, going by the name "Blaze", gave an impromptu interview with Ted while using his fiery elemental abilities to do some on-the-spot welding, as well as start a couple bonfires to keep people warm during the night. Blaze and the rest of the nova crew that arrived with the Sefton helicopters, unlike the Utopia novas, were actually quite personable and willing to talk to the reporters. The only nova who seemed unwilling to give an interview was the large black bodyguard following David Flynn around.

_David Flynn._

Greg took a break from going through his camera footage to think about the young CEO of Syndrome Software and Technologies. He was surprised the kid was willing to do an interview, but even more surprised when Flynn said that they, and the other network reps that had accompanied them in the convoy were welcome to talk to anyone in the camp. That caught a lot of people by surprise, especially since this was also the same guy who literally stood toe to toe with Caestus Pax and told him to get lost. Flynn's willingness to suddenly grant an interview when asked by Ted also caught them off guard. It also gave Greg a chance to study the kid and, while he shot the interview, he had hard time believing this was the same person who, only minutes earlier had faced off against one of the most powerful novas on the planet.

Greg pulled up that interview on his laptop and recalled other interviews Flynn had given. He realized that the David Flynn they interviewed was very different to the David Flynn who talked to Utopia friendly networks. That David Flynn came across as a cocky young upstart who made it clear that he didn't care much for Project Utopia. However, the David Flynn in this interview, and in other interviews with non-Utopia affiliated networks, was actually open, up front, and…well…more human than the one who seemed to go out of his way to antagonize Utopia or the people representing it.

That was the other thing bugging Greg. Both versions of David Flynn were nothing like his biological father, but Greg could still see the resemblance between Flynn and Buddy Pine.

_When he smiles or laughs, he's almost the spitting image of that psychopath. But all his actions, and the fact that he's been open to the public, is completely different from his father. In fact, he's been so blatant about it, I almost wonder if he's actually-_

"Wow, being on camera does make my butt look big," a voice said, interrupting Greg's train of thought.

He looked up and saw David Flynn standing there, sipping a cup of coffee. He also saw something he hadn't noticed before in all the confusion. The faint remains of what had been a black left eye and bruising on the jaw-line, indicating that Flynn had been in a fight in the last couple days.

_Shit, I didn't hear him coming._

Flynn walked up and sat down across from Greg, taking another sip of coffee. "So," he said, "Greg, right? Ted Richards' cameraman?"

"Um, yeah."

_Oh yeah, very eloquent there, Gregory._

"Just talked to your boss and he'll probably be here to tell you the news as soon as he's done talking to Sefton."

"What news?"

Flynn took another sip of his coffee before he answered, his eyes never leaving Greg's which meant that Flynn was studying him, sizing him up. "Director Phillipa Lavielle will flying in from Chicago to accompany me while I take a tour of 'Zone Red'. Apparently, she's not thrilled with how CTV and various other networks seem to be beating N!Channel to the punch when it comes to coverage and she wants to make a big deal by coming down here and checking out things herself."

Greg could read the expression in Flynn's eyes and could see a mixture of amusement and disgust. "I take it that's the 'diplomatic' and 'friendly' version?" he asked, grinning back at the kid.

Flynn actually laughed. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it." He paused again to finish off his coffee. "So she's coming down with an 'entourage' of her favorite sycophantic reporters and support personnel and has invited me to tour 'Zone Red' with her. I agreed on the condition of bringing my own 'entourage' of media and support personnel."

Greg couldn't help smiling at Flynn's terminology.

"_Entourage of media and support personnel"? I think "media personnel and bodyguards" would be more accurate._

Then the realization hit him.

_Wait…Zone Red? We're going into Zone Red!_

He managed to keep his expression calm and neutral to hide his excitement of being allowed in what had been previously off limits. "So, why are you telling me this?" he asked.

Flynn's smile faded. "I don't know, Gregory Paladino," he replied. "Do you think it's safe to check out a dangerous area with the son of the man who killed your father?"

* * *

James winced as he turned his head to follow his baseline "alter-ego", James Booth, who slowly walked around him, shaking his head while taking a couple puffs off his cigarette.

"Damn, Jimmy, you really buggered this one up, didn't ya? I mean, most people when they are about to die usually have their life flash before their eyes, but you...oh, yeah, that's right, you threw all that away when you erupted." James Booth stared at his monstrous counterpart for a moment and shook his head. "What a fucking joke...tossed a promising archaeological career and tenure at Cambridge for what?" He gestured at the I-Beam protruding from James' chest. "This? Tell me, was it worth it?"

"Y-you're not...not real," James choked out.

"Oh, of course not," Booth snapped back. "I'm not real. In fact let's just skip the whole 'Christmas Carol' spiel. I'm not some figment of your imagination created by an 'undigested bit of potato'. In fact, I'm not sure what I am, but it doesn't change the fact that you're dying and you don't seem to want to do anything about it."

James roared as he lunged forward at his baseline self, then screamed even louder in agony as he pulled himself off the I-Beam. Then he dropped to his knees, clutching at the bloody hole in his chest. The faint sound of clapping cut through the pain and his vision cleared up as he saw his counterpart standing there, mockingly applauding him.

"Impressive," Booth said, tilting his head to one side as he watched James struggle to get back to his feet before collapsing back on his knees. "Or maybe not."

"How can this be happening?" James asked as he looked at one of his hands and saw it covered in blood. "I'm...I'm supposed to be-"

"Supposed to be a nearly invulnerable, unstoppable, rampaging quantum powered avatar of power, rage, and all-around destruction unleashed?" Booth finished for him. "Well, usually, you are. So you're probably asking yourself: 'Self, why the hell am I bleeding to death in the bloody bowels of the Underground in Mexico city?' Right?" Booth smiled again. "Well, I'm no scientist, but let's think about it for a moment. That little shit we...well, more to the point, YOU...tangled with hit you with that funky blue energy shit. Remember what he said?"

Images of the fight from earlier flashed through his mind again.

_**"Shit, Geryon, that's fucking impressive. Even Mr. Incredible couldn't move in my little Quantum field." He paused for a moment, his helmeted head tilted to one side as if he were considering something. "You know, I don't know why they call it Quantum energy instead of Zero Point Energy...I always thought that sounded cooler. Not that it matters, I can manipulate quantum, and the fact that your body kicks out so much of it pretty much allows me to control it."**_

_**James' eyes narrowed. "Really?" he asked as a desperate plan suddenly went through his head. "Using my own quantum against me?"**_

_**"Wow, you're not as dumb as you look," Gabriel snickered. "That's pretty much it."**_

_**"Good to know," James said. He knew it was a desperate attempt, maybe suicidal, but it was now or never. He concentrated for a moment, willing his body to "dorm down".**_

James fought the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him as his mind snapped back to the present.

"I'm guessing," Booth was saying to him, "that when he hit you with that stuff, it fucked up your MR node...maybe drained a lot of Quantum out of it. It weakened you to the point that you could be hurt. Granted it took an earthquake and you falling through a sinkhole to do it, but...well...here you are."

"No," James said, this time succeeding in getting back up to his feet. "Here, we are."

Booth laughed at him. "There is no 'We' anymore, mate. You burned that bridge when you decided to become 'Geryon, rampaging nova activist'!" He waved his hands in a dramatic gesture, then shook his head and spat at the ground. "Guess it's not working out for you, huh?"

"Then why are you even here?"

Booth shrugged at that question. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "Maybe you're having regrets about your life and this is your way of remembering them."

"I have no regrets," James growled menacingly.

"Oh please," Booth snapped. "Everyone has regrets and we both know that your menacing growl isn't worth anything to me. Besides, if you really don't have any regrets then, by all means, feel free to just give up and die. Doesn't bother me much."

James snapped and suddenly charged at Booth, swinging a monstrous fist at the smaller man while clutching his chest with his other hand. "Fuck you!" he screamed.

Unfortunately, Booth wasn't really there and his fist impacted a wall of rubble, causing it to explode and more debris to fall around him. After a few more seconds, the falling debris subsided and James found himself half-buried under a few tons of dirt and more rubble.

"Wow, that was good," Booth said as he stepped forward again from the shadows to stand in front of James. "You still got some fire in you after all."

"I don't care if you're a figment of my imagination or not," James snarled. "When I get out of this, you and I are going to settle this."

"And what would Freud say about that?" Booth asked, seemingly intrigued by James' threat. "Destroying one's self out of spite? No...wait, he'd probably throw some mommy issues in there. Never could figure why he kept doing that." He paused and then looked up, which also caused James to look up and see the shafts of sunlight coming through on opening at least thirty feet about them. "Well now," he finally said after a few moments of silence, "it looks like your tantrum got you a window to the outside world as it were."

He looked back at James and saw that the monstrous nova had once again fallen unconscious.

"Hmmm, unconscious, but still alive...so I guess we're not done yet."


	4. Aftermath Part 4

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, don't own Aberrant. Pixar/Disney/Brad Bird owns the former. White Wolf still owns the latter (but that will change when I win the mega-millions...yeah, I know...I'm dreaming). CTV is owned by...well...CTV.

Author's Notes: Okay, just another short update. Sorry. As usual, thanks to everyone for sticking around with me on this. As usual, feedback and comments are welcome. Not much here. No real fighting...sorry. And I'll level with you, the Aftermath arc won't have much in the way of fighting, but don't worry...we'll see some violence soon.

* * *

"_It was...it was...a demon, a black demon. He killed the angels...one by one..."_

"_All I know is the power went out, and everyone's electronics went ape-shit, then something happened downtown. People we're freaking out, running. I thought I saw some monstrous creature fighting some fucker in black armor, but ran for cover when buildings started falling around me..."_

"_It was Geryon...the Teragen...he was there. He did this..."_

"_Yeah, Geryon was here, but he was fighting some dude in black armor who had these funky blue energy things on his arms..."_

"_What fight? I was too busy trying to get out of a car accident caused by all the signals going out. Then the quake hit."_

"_My...my daughter. She was at the Utopia building when the quake hit..."_

-Excerpts of multiple interviews conducted by CTV reporter Ted Richards

* * *

"I don't know, Gregory Paladino. Do you think it's safe to check out a dangerous area with the son of the man who killed your father?"

Greg was momentarily speechless as his brain processed what he just heard. At first, he thought he heard wrong, but that still didn't keep the icy tone out of his voice when he finally recovered enough to speak. "Excuse me?"

"It wasn't that hard to figure out," said David Flynn, shrugging away the implied threat in Greg's voice. "After all, the NSA was very thorough in providing me the files on all the media and medical personnel coming down here from LA. Not to mention the fact that you were following me around without Richards, constantly shooting footage around camp, but you kept following me. Then there's the added bonus of my mind being linked to the 'net and able to access anything. When your name popped up, it was only a few minutes of cross-checking with various databases and getting a detailed history on you. I won't bore you with the details but let's start with the basics. Gregory Paladino, age 27, father Simon Paladino aka "Gazerbeam". You have two half siblings, Lydia, age 22, and Brian, age 20, both are in college. I could go on, but I have other things to do other than dig further."

"You went too far already," Greg snapped.

"You're right," Flynn replied. "It's none of my business, but when one of the kids of the supers my biological father murdered shows up, it's only logical I do some research. Don't get me wrong, I figure there are some people, like you, who hate me for who I am and would love to get some payback. However, there are far more powerful people out there who hate me for what I am and would have me killed for it." He then smiled at Greg. "Shit, they'd probably have done it by now if it weren't for the fact that I have some contingency plans in place in case they did have me taken out."

Greg was about to retaliate with a snide remark, but held back as he realized what David was saying.

_More powerful people? This kid sounds paranoid…although, I would be too if I was a hyper-intelligent young CEO who seems to be at odds with Utopia. I wonder what he meant by 'contingency plans'._

He mentally shuddered at that thought. "So what do you want from me, Flynn?" he asked. "A confrontation or something, maybe a chance to somehow make amends?"

Flynn shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I'm not going to apologize for something I didn't do, but I figure someone will eventually try to make me atone for the proverbial 'sins of the father'. Someone already tried that a few days ago, even though, unlike you, they didn't lose any family members." He smiled again, gesturing to the fading black eye. "Then again, unlike you, that particular little shit is an egotistical drama queen. And while I'd love to settle the score with him, I have real problems to contend with. This disaster and Utopia are my primary concerns."

"So what do you want from me?" Greg asked again.

"The same thing I asked the Parrs," Flynn said. "A truce, preferably a permanent one, that's all. Like I said before, I'm not my biological father and I have other things to deal with. The last thing I want is an angry super coming after me out of some sick and twisted sense of vengeance."

"What makes you think I have powers?"

Flynn smirked at him. "Just call it a hunch. You and your siblings might not be registered with Utopia or the NSA, but that could just be smart judgment on your part."

"And you're threatening to reveal my secret to the world if I don't agree to this 'truce'."

Flynn shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort and, to be honest, I don't care if you have powers or not. All I want is to go about my business and not worry about someone like you gunning for me."

"If I were 'gunning' for you, Flynn," Greg said with an answering smirk of his own, "we wouldn't be having this conversation and you'd be ashes right now."

There were a couple moments of awkward silence as both men stared each other down until, unexpectedly, they both began to laugh.

"Okay," Flynn said as he shook his head again. "I guess we've done the cock swinging part."

"Yeah, we did."

"So, are we cool?" Flynn asked offering his hand.

"No," Greg replied, but he still shook Flynn's hand, "but I'm not gunning for you. However, I don't trust you, Flynn. It's obvious you've got some sort of agenda."

"Of course I do," Flynn chuckled. "But it could be argued that everyone has an agenda...even you. Now, you might want to wake up your co-worker over there and let her know we'll be meeting up with Lavielle."

Greg watched the young man get up and leave, then returned his attention back to the footage he was editing. However, after a couple minutes, he shut down his laptop and pushed it aside, thinking about the conversation he just had. He was expecting a confrontation with Flynn, but this wasn't how he had imagined it. Instead of a potentially violent showdown, it was a simple conversation and, as much as Greg hated to admit it, David Flynn made a very convincing argument.

However, that simply brought up more questions.

_As far as Flynn is concerned, I'm not the enemy, that much is obvious. In fact he seems more hostile towards Utopia than me. It's almost as if he knows something...but what could it be?_

After a few seconds he shook his head and gave up. He could worry about conspiracy theories later. Right now, he had to wake up Maria and find Ted, they had a job to do.

* * *

The seven of them stood there at the makeshift helipad that was set up on the outskirts of the camp, watching as the three SH-60 Sea Hawks landed in front of them. Two of craft were painted in the blue and gold color scheme of Project Utopia, but the third craft they escorted, in contrast, was black with blue and gold trim. Unlike its escorts, the third craft also sported the logo of The Aeon Foundation instead of Project Utopia.

As the craft landed and powered down, Greg found himself mentally comparing the three choppers that brought David Flynn and his crew to those belonging to the Utopia group. Yes, all the craft were military-grade craft, but the CH-47s that Flynn brought down were obviously meant to be "workhorses" and to perform rescue and salvage operations. The Sea Hawks bringing the Utopia contingent down could also perform the same tasks, but they were not configured for it.

_They're configured for more than just escort duty, and the heavy weapons make it obvious they are not here for a rescue effort. This is about power and intimidation. At least Flynn and his crew came here to help; this group is here to send a message to Flynn._

He glanced at the others to see their reactions and if Lavielle's attempt at intimidation was working. Ted stood there, his face was calm and collected as usual whenever he was reporting a story, though, after working with him for so long, Greg could tell there was some disgust there. Ted disliked it when authority figures went out of their way to try to project their power on others and he tended to ask his more biting questions when that happened.

_Let's hope Lavielle keeps it simple, because this already doesn't look good._

He took a moment to study the other five people; David Flynn, Jake Peters, Penny Sefton, Damon Best, and a ten foot tall rock-like creature wearing goggles and a headset named Larry. Peters and Sefton flanked Flynn while Larry and Best stood a few feet away from them discussing something being displayed on a data-pad being held by Larry. None of them looked impressed or intimidated by the blatant display of power from the Utopia group. In fact, Greg saw Flynn's lip form into a smirk. Larry and Best were only giving the craft the slightest amount of attention, but that didn't seem too surprising to Greg; the two were engineers and were more concerned with setting up/repairing equipment and focusing on aid efforts.

Larry shocked Greg and Ted when he came out of the cargo hold of one of Sefton's craft, but it wasn't the rock-like creature's scary appearance, it was the techno-babble that started coming out of his mouth that caught them off guard. Within minutes of his arrival, Larry and Damon Best were already in conversation and coordinating efforts to set up the medical facility and the camp. Within a couple hours, the place was up and running and he and Damon were making regular trips to the city to assist with the rescue effort. Greg had heard it mentioned among some of the SST staff that Larry could "power down" to a human form, but hadn't fully recovered from being assaulted by the Utopia group that had attempted to storm SST a month ago.

So they stood there as they watched the Aeon/Utopia contingent disembark from their craft. Armed personnel stepped out of the two escort choppers and took up positions in front of their craft. A couple minutes later, the Aeon chopper's cargo door opened and Phillipa Lavielle stepped out, flanked by Saxon, the current acting leader of T2M Europe and the nova known as Stalwart. Greg thought he heard a snarl and looked over to see Larry starting to move forward, but being held back by Best.

"Easy man," he heard Best say. "It's obvious they picked him to goad you into doing something stupid."

"I wonder what that's about," Ted said. Apparently, he was also studying the rest of the group.

"Beats me,"Greg replied, "but I'm thinking Lavielle selected those two as her guards because we pissed off Saxon when we arrived and I'm guessing Stalwart has a history with Flynn's group."

"Well, this is going to definitely get interesting," Ted said as he resumed his 'cold and professional' look. "Keep recording, let's hope we don't get end up in the middle of a firefight. We don't need the ratings that badly."

Behind Lavielle and her guards, N!Channel reporter Erin Reid and MSNBC reporter William Brenner stepped out of the craft along with their camera crew. Greg couldn't help smirking.

_It figures, get the two most sycophantic networks to come out and put a positive spin on this disaster._

He managed to hide his own disgust because he had seen how some of the Utopia friendly media were trying to marginalize or play down what Flynn and the crew of Camp Makeshift had accomplished. On the other hand, he couldn't blame them for trying since all the reports coming from Ted and the other unaffiliated network reporters shot most of the pro-Utopia stories down. It was kind of funny, in a way, to see the Utopia-biased reporters broadcast their stories and then have to modify or retract them minutes after news from Camp Makeshift came out, especially the interviews with some of the refugees. Even now, as Lavielle and her crew approached, Greg was wondering how the Utopia media was going to spin it.

_I can see the headlines now on the 'net. "Hot blonde socialite/aristocratic leader of organization meets leader of renegade faction". Damn…I have gotten pessimistic._

* * *

David was only vaguely aware of his surroundings. His primary focus was on Phillipa Lavielle, director of the Aeon Foundation. He knew they would eventually meet, it was inevitable, but he hadn't expected it to happen this way. He knew most of the general public saw a beautiful woman who headed one of the most powerful organizations in the world, but that was what she permitted them to see. However, David knew the truth about her. He had known since the events of Redfield when he had linked to Aeon's network, forcing them to wipe out the entire town to prevent the breach.

_And I'm certain she knows a lot about me since Aeon originally funded Pine's scientific endeavors._

Then he saw the reporters and the two novas following Lavielle fall back. Lavielle continued several steps further then stopped about half-way between her group and David's. She smiled and nodded, but David understood what she was doing. This was confirmed when he glanced at the CTV news crew who were suddenly having problems with their equipment.

_She's calling me out, wants to talk out of earshot of the cameras. Might as well hear what she has to say._

"Stay here," he said to Jake and the others. "Apparently she wants to talk."

"You think she can be trusted?" Jake asked.

David shook his head. "No," he replied, "but she's not stupid either, so I doubt she'll try anything. She wants to talk out of range of the cameras' audio. Just keep an eye on her nova friends and don't do anything to give her media suck-ups something to use, okay?"

He then stepped forward and made his way to where Lavielle stood, stopping a few feet in front of her. "Director Lavielle," he said, nodding his head once in acknowledgment.

The blond woman smiled at him, but he noticed there was no warmth in her eyes, just a cold and calculating predator sizing up a possible kill. "Mr. Flynn, we finally meet. I take it you're using your ability to interfere with the equipment of my media personnel?"

David allowed himself a tiny smile, gesturing at the tiny cross pendant Lavielle was wearing. "Just like you're wearing a device to scramble any footage my people might try to record. You do know that I can shut it down, right?"

"Why don't you?"

"Because I wanted to hear what you have to say," David said. "You know; the usual rhetoric and veiled threats…that sort of thing."

Lavielle laughed, but David didn't find any warmth in that. "Oh my," she chuckled, "subtlety really isn't your strong suit, is it?"

"Not really," David replied. "I prefer to get right to the heart of the matter, especially when dealing with an enemy."

"We don't have to be enemies, David," Lavielle said. She almost sounded concerned, but David knew it was false sympathy. "If we had only known that Pine was conducting his own genetic experiments, we would have intervened. We never realized he was THAT brilliant."

"Bullshit. You knew he was brilliant, you just didn't think he was brilliant enough to hide it from you. You also would have probably taken his research, killed him, and then had your own people working on it."

Lavielle stared at him for a couple seconds in dead silence, and then nodded. "You have a point," she admitted, "something like you would have been considered dangerous, but still. He managed to genetically engineer a nova on his first attempt, which even you have to admit was impressive."

David answered with a cold look of his own. "Unlike the line of failures they went through before they got you?" he asked.

The Aeon Director's eyes narrowed to slits at that revelation. "Well, well…you really managed to get that far." Though there was a hint of amusement when she spoke, David could also sense the venom in her voice. "Tell me, little one, what do you know?"

"I know that Project Kronos was merely the first stage of a plan," David said, ignoring the woman's patronizing tone. "I also know that you would have proceeded to the next stage if Galatea hadn't exploded." He smiled at her again, noticing that his remark actually made her rear back slightly, telling him that he had hit a nerve. "That must have sucked," he continued, "Project Phoenix derailed by a 'freak accident'."

"A temporary setback," Phillipa said after taking a moment to recover. "And you seem to know a lot about Project Phoenix."

"I know enough."

"Then why don't you come forward with what you know and expose us?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" David said. "Young mega-genius comes forward with a wild claim about a clandestine attempt to try and take over and reshape the world. If I did that, it would cause a lot of chaos and you guys would waste no time in eliminating me and then you would have your media drones put up a bunch of BS about how I was mentally unstable. Chances are, if you did it quick enough, you might convince a majority of the public of that and then pick off those who didn't buy it. I don't know…maybe you would create some sort of emergency, cause some disaster in an area where most of those people were located." His smiled again at her. "And then you would come in, perform some rescue or aid effort, but I'm sure there would be few survivors."

For the first time in their conversation, Lavielle's eyes registered emotion. Though only for a moment, a flash of anger could be seen in her eyes and David knew his comment hit home. "You have a very vivid imagination, Mr. Flynn," she finally said.

"Not really," David said, his smile getting bigger. "You were willing to kill an entire town of six-thousand innocent people and sacrifice most of your employees in that facility located there, just to get rid of me." Then he shrugged. "What's a few thousand more?"

"And do you really think you can stop us?"

He simply shrugged in response to her question.

After a couple more moments of silence and staring each other down, Phillipa Lavielle nodded her head, reached up, and thumbed the small cross shaped pendant she wore. "Very well," she said. "You will be allowed to go into Zone Red, but those support teams must be with you at all times."

David nodded as well and mentally stopped the jamming on the Utopia media personnel. "Fine," he said. He turned to walk away, but stopped to look over his shoulder. "Just one question Director Lavielle."

"Yes?"

"What did happen to the Americas cell of T2M?"

"That, Mr. Flynn, is classified."

David smiled and shook his head as he rejoined his crew. "Of course it is," he said, "of course it is."

* * *

Greg silently cursed as the digitized haze that was his camera feed suddenly cleared up. He must have said something out loud because Ted leaned over to whisper to him.

"Problem?"

"Not anymore," Greg said as he focused in on Flynn who was now returning from his little talk with Lavielle. "There was something jamming my gear and screwing up my visuals."

Ted didn't seem too surprised. "You weren't the only one. The Utopia crew on the other side looked like they were having difficulties as well. It does kind of suck though, I'm sure that conversation would have made for some interesting news.

_From what I saw, I'm not sure I want to know the whole conversation, _Greg thought. What Ted didn't know is that Greg was a nova, a second-generation nova. And like his father, Greg did possess certain abilities. The heat-vision, the X-ray vision, and the night vision were great, but he always liked his telescopic vision the best. Greg also learned how to read lips a few years back which worked well with his natural born abilities. While he didn't get a clear enough look at David Flynn's face, he got a good look at Lavielle's. What he read frightened the hell out of him.

_Don't know what Flynn said, but just her side of the conversation alone scares the shit out of me. What the fuck is "Phoenix"? And what's so important about it?_

"Okay, people," Greg heard Flynn say, bringing him back to the present, "we got our marching orders. Sefton, I need you and Best up in the air in one of the Chinooks. Larry, go with them in case they need the extra muscle or some 'MacGuyver' work on the equipment."

The large rock monster groaned and shook his head, sliding his rocky palm across his face. "Aw, man, you just had to go there, didn't you?" His remark got chuckles from the others, including Greg.

Flynn grinned at him. "Yes, I went there. Face it, you're really good at rigging something up if we run into something unexpected and, don't take this the wrong way, it wouldn't be a good idea for you to walk around in your nova form. We'll be going through some unstable terrain and the last thing I want is for you to step on what you think is solid ground and fall through a pane of window glass belonging to a downed sky-scraper. Granted, the fall might not kill you, but it might hurt any of us who might end up falling with you."

"True," Larry said, nodding in agreement.

Then Flynn's smile faded. "It would also be handy to have you up in the air because, if we do run into something, you can jump in when needed."

Larry nodded again and then fell back into conversation with Damon Best as the two of them began to follow Penny Sefton to one of her helicopters.

"Jake, get one of the medical Hummers and a couple of staffers. I'd prefer two, but if they can only spare us one, we'll take it."

Jake Peters frowned at his employer's order. "You're not going with me?"

David Flynn shook his head. "No," he replied, turning his attention to Greg and Ted. "I'll be riding in the lead with them."

"You sure that's wise?"

"Probably not, but I think they'd be really stupid if they were to try taking me out when I'm with a live and embedded news crew." David's grin returned. "The last thing Lavielle wants right now is another incident."

"But you really don't think they'll try something?" This time it was Ted asking the question.

Flynn turned to look at the reporter and chuckled. "Of course they'll try something," he said. "But I doubt they'll do it now, especially when we're beaming it out live."

* * *

Phillipa Lavielle watched from the shade of her helicopter as David Flynn gave orders to his crew and had come to the conclusion that she had underestimated him. Her first read on the young man was that he was a pompous and arrogant little punk who would eventually be brought to heel or simply "dealt with" permanently. But now, she knew differently; Flynn's constant belittling of Utopia, his snide comments about Team Tomorrow, his constant goading of Caestus Pax…it was all an act.

The young man she met on the helipad was not an arrogant little punk; he was a young man with an agenda of his own. She could see it in his eyes that he, like Aeon, was playing the long game.

_And the fact that he mentioned Project Phoenix tells me that he knows more than we suspected, but he has refused to come forward with what he knows; why?_

The reason he gave her sounded like a logical one, but she also knew it to be a lie. Again, that look in his eyes told her that he was playing at something else. For a moment, she had considered arranging an accident or some sort of incident to get rid of this enemy, but she immediately dismissed that idea when it came up. In fact, she regarded David Flynn as a useful tool.

_It was a Proteus operative manipulating Utopia personnel and assets that made Flynn actively engage them, forcing them to unleash Buddy Pine._

She smiled as she recalled the high body count Buddy Pine had racked up since escaping from his prison. Slaughtering Mexico City, the crown jewel of Utopia's achievements, was a little extreme, but Phillipa knew that, in the end, it was a small price to pay.

_The world needs a monster; a great evil to fear…might as well let Pine fill that roll. And if he can take out his bastard son in the process, that would be even better. Hopefully, Flynn will do enough damage to Proteus before he's killed._

Of course, all that planning did rely on one small, but important, detail: Pine had to succeed in killing Flynn. On the other hand, if Flynn managed to defeat his father, there was another scenario.

_Evidence would be released that there was a secret cabal within Utopia and they were responsible for Buddy Pine being alive and unleashed on the world. Thetis and her inner circle would be revealed and removed, allowing me to "reluctantly" appoint a new council to oversee Utopia. I make enough of a public spectacle of it and play like I was uninformed; the sheep out there will believe it. Then I will have the entirety of Aeon and its assets at my disposal._

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Flynn turn in her direction and toss her mock salute.

_And then, little puppet, it will be your turn._

_

* * *

_

James slowly opened his yes and moaned in pain. He wasn't quite sure why, but he had the weirdest dream.

"It lives!" Booth shouted.

_Shit,_ James thought to himself, _it wasn't a bad dream._

"Nope," said his counterpart, getting up off the small pile of rubble near the pile James was half-buried in. "Not a bad dream, just a living nightmare, you're still dying, and I'm still here so, despite the pain and agony, you're not dead…yet."

James growled at him again and made to move towards his phantom counter-part, only to be stopped by the realization that Booth wasn't real and the sharp agonizing pain from the half-healed hole in his chest.

Booth walked back around to James to get a better look at the wound and wince, shaking his head. "Damn, 'mate. That's not looking too good; you might want to see a doctor about that or something."

"It's healing," James hissed.

"Yeah," Booth smirked at him, "I can see that. Just one problem, it's healing more slowly than usual and it's starting to slow down even more." He shook his head again. "That MR-Node of yours got fucked over big time, Jimmy. Between the jolt you got from that Gabriel wanker and the injuries you got falling down here, you're dying."

At the mention of Gabriel's name, images of the fight flashed through James' mind again. And, once again, he experienced the flashes of pain he felt as the quantum surge ripped through his body. But then, he felt something else, something that wasn't there at first, but had started to ignite as he remembered the battle…rage.

"Ah, yes, Gabriel," Booth said. "You remember that wanker, right? The pussy in a shitty piece of cobbled together battle armor that did this to you? Let me guess what you're thinking right now. You're thinking 'Grrr…arrrgh! I'm Geryon, rampaging nova activist! I'm gonna' rip that little piece of shit apart! Fear me! For I am a monster!', right?" He slowly started to walk around the pile of rubble. "Geryon," he continued, "member the Teragen, leader of a small nova vigilante group called 'Nova Vigilance', randomly targeting people who you see threatening the nova community, playing the rampaging monster and trying to strike fear into the baselines….what a fucking joke."

"The cause isn't a fucking joke," James snarled as he started to push away at some of the rubble burying him.

"I didn't say it was," Booth shot back at him, "never believed it was. I was talking about you…about us."

Pain shot through James body again, but he managed to stifle back the roar of again and pull himself out of the pile before dropping to the ground and at Booth's feet. He took a swipe at the man's legs, futile since there really wasn't anyone there, but it did make him feel better for a moment, despite being in pain.

"Look at you," Booth said, looking down the kneeling nova. "Pathetic. The great rampaging Geryon, attempting to pull himself out of a situation in which he's dying, and he decides to waste some of that energy on trying to disembowel an hallucination." He then knelt down to look James straight in the eye and his features softened slightly. "What's sad is that you had a good idea, but you were too lazy to think it all the way through."

"What are you talking about?" James asked, not really wanting to know the answer, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let his baseline self get the satisfaction of having the last word.

"That's part of the problem right there," Booth replied in response to James' thought. "Once you went nova, you decided to just throw your past aside and take up the cause. You stopped being 'James Booth', claiming he was dead and that only 'Geryon' existed. Except, when all is said and done Geryon is just a rampaging nova terrorist with no real goal. The baselines see you as just another rampaging monster, and the other members of the Teragen leadership simply see you as an erratic tool that has its uses."

James glared angrily at his counterpart. As much as he wanted to rip Booth's head off, he had to admit the little shit was right.

"Of course, I'm right," Booth said. "But I'm also not going to say you're wrong on your end either. There are threats to our kind, Jimmy, but let's face facts here; you only went after defenseless little monkeys who really weren't a threat. In fact, all you really did when taking them out was made them martyrs, making us more enemies along the way." He then stood up and stepped back. "Except now, there is a real threat here. This Gabriel…he's nothing like the wankers you faced in the past. You always believed that those who threatened our kind were evil, well...maybe some of them were, but this Gabriel bloke is something far different. What we saw was pure evil. He wasn't out to just kill our kind, he didn't care if his victims were nova or baseline, and he did it just for fun."

Again, James had to admit that Booth had a point, but he wasn't going to let the smirking little bastard know it. Instead, he looked up at where shafts of sunlight could be seen stabbing through a whole several yards above him. He then slowly, and painfully, struggled back to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Booth asked.

"Getting out," James replied, wincing with every step he took towards the cavern wall, leaving his baseline phantom standing there.

"Oh, you think it's that easy, do you?" Booth called out.

"Never said it was," James said as he punched a whole in the wall and used it as a hand-hold to pull himself up. "Never said was," he repeated, punching another hole in the wall with his other hand, ignoring the pain in his chest as he slowly started to make his way up the wall towards the source of the sunlight.


	5. Aftermath Part 5

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, Pixar does. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does.

Author's Notes:

Yes, people, this story is still ongoing. We're about to conclude the first arc of it. I hope you've enjoyed the ride so far. I know I kind of dropped this for a month and half without warning, because I was focusing on "Aeon", but I am back on this. For what it's worth, "Aeon" was originally going to be part of "WoA", but told in a series of flashbacks, but I felt it would bog the story down and I felt "Aeon" would be better of being a "standalone" story set in this crazy 'verse. For those of you who haven't read "Aeon" yet, you might want to check it out; it's really not required reading, but it does answer a lot of questions (while bringing up others). As usual, I just want to thank those few people who have stuck with me on this crazy ride and seem intent on sticking around for it.

For the record, this is going to be a very big story with multiple story arcs that will interconnect. Compared to "Awkward Times" and the "Countdown" series, this is going to be epic. A lot of things are going to happen and, if you're a new reader who hasn't read "Awkward" and "Countdown", I suggest you might want to catch up on those so you won't feel completely lost. For those of you who have read those stories (and are still crazy enough to stick around for the rest), you'll be happy to see that some of those "loose" plot threads I left dangling are not forgotten.

As usual, thanks to all those who stuck around, particularly Shannon K who is more than willing to crack the whip and yell at me to keep writing even though she's over a thousand miles away and has her hands full taking care of a crazy (but cute) kid. Shannon …no need to send those…things over here…I'm writing. I also thank the usual suspects (Da1NOnly, the Plothook crew, Nullchronicler, Danni, and Artificus are just a few I can recall off the top of my head)…including that one reader from the Russian Federation who seems to be sticking around (don't know who you are, but thanks).

And finally, thanks to White Wolf and Brad Bird for their original creations. Granted the former could care less about their forgotten franchise and I'm willing to bet the latter is too busy on his next animation project to bother with crap like mine (and I will not have to worry about demands of my head being mounted on a pike).

* * *

"Despite claims by Project Utopia to the contrary, raw video footage has made it across the net and on several media networks revealing what can only be described as 'unprofessional' behavior by Caestus Pax and other members of Team Tomorrow."

-Fox News

"Though it appears that Caestus Pax acted angrily towards a group willing to provide aid, it has been suggested that even a nova as powerful as Pax can be exhausted. Other Utopia sources also assure us that the actions taken by Pax towards Flynn had nothing to do with the minor incident in Metroville last month…"

-MSNBC

"Caestus Pax showed remarkable restraint in dealing with provocative actions taken by SST CEO David Flynn and his entourage. Despite claims by other media, our news sources in Utopia say that there really was no incident and that it was blown out of proportion."

-N!Channel

"What a crock of shit! It's obvious the little fucker went down there for the sole purpose of pissing on Utopia while they take a hit. He's just a little vulture, circling the dead and dying, and waiting for the chance to strike out. People like David Flynn are an obstacle preventing good people like Utopia from making the world a better place. Personally, I think Pax should have flash-fried the little fucker. Yeah, his image might have taken a hit, but it would have been worth it and progress would have been made."

-Brandi Miller, "The Brandi Miller Show", Air America

"Okay, everyone's saying David Flynn went down there to tweak Utopia's nose and I can see where they're coming from. But doesn't anyone find it strange that the only footage we've been getting from Utopia and it's affiliates were mostly press conferences with Pax , a few still shots, and a rosy little speech at the UN assembly? And what about the crashed jetliners in the area that fell out of the sky because they lost power under the 'blue haze'? No one knew anything about that until the unaffiliated networks accompanying Flynn started beaming their footage out, and then you had that little incident with Pax. I'll be the first to admit that Flynn may have goaded him, but Pax should have known better and not thrown a tantrum like that.

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show", XM Radio

* * *

**_Mexico City_**

**_76 Hours After Incident_**

When Greg first saw the device David Flynn had packed in their Hummer, he laughed. It was a weird looking high-tech backpack that looked like something out of the old Ghostbusters movie, though not quite as clunky. Trailing from the pack were two sets of insulated cords and cables that were hooked up to two high-tech gauntlets that Flynn wore on each arm.

"And what the hell is that supposed to be?" Greg asked Flynn when he started to put the pack on.

"Zero Point Energy technology," Flynn replied. "My second attempt at trying to figure out my fa-Pine's design."

Greg caught Flynn's hesitation when he mentioned Pine's name, but he decided not to bring that subject up. "Your second attempt," he repeated, "what happened to the first?"

"It was too small to handle the power output after I used it to throw my BMW at Stalwart a few weeks ago. Took it off and tossed it in time before it blew up."

"Ouch," Ted said, joining in on the conversation as he got out of the other side of the Hummer. "That must have set you back a little."

"Yeah,"Flynn said before his lips parted into an amused grin, "but it was worth it, the explosion knocked Stalwart out cold."

Greg took a look at the gauntlets again. "You said your father designed these?"

Again, Greg saw Flynn flinch at the mention of his biological father. "No, he designed working ones. This is me going by what Pine had in his database which was mostly prototypes and failures, his final designs were never included."

"Database?" Ted asked, intrigued by that revelation. "What all did the NSA allow you access to when you took your father's holdings from them?"

"Mostly his financial and land assets," Flynn said. "As for the database, it's easy to come by when you're mentally linked to electronic networks around the world." He patted one of the gauntlets. "Basically had to reverse-engineer, locate the problem, and then go from there. I was able to create a power-flow control system but, as you can see, it's a little bulky."

"So…who you gonna' call?" Ted asked, receiving groans from everyone in their group. "What," he said, "tell me you all weren't thinking the same thing."

A few hours later, Greg and the others watched as David used the device to manipulate energy fields via the gauntlets to move rubble out of the way and to lift survivors off or out of the ground when they were located. However, there were some darker thoughts that slowly made their way to the surface and made Greg wonder if this was the same technology that was used to kill his father.

_Don't be stupid, of course it's the same technology. But you don't see Flynn using it to make himself look like some badass super, do you?_

Greg had to admit that was true. Flynn didn't seem interested in trying to be a hero to the public like Pine was. He also didn't seem interested in following his father in the weapons trade, though it was obvious he easily could.

_So David Flynn is not Buddy Pine, but it's clear he's got some sort of agenda, one that has him at odds with Utopia and their handlers at Aeon._

While he didn't find that thought too comforting, it was good to know that at least there was someone with some sort of power and influence who didn't buy into Utopia's "one world, one vision" mentality; even if it was the son of a murderer.

_Stop it!_

Again, he was mentally at war with himself, trying to give Flynn the benefit of a doubt, but it was hard to not mentally compare the kid to his father.

_On the other hand, Buddy Pine wouldn't have spent twenty minutes throwing up after pulling dismembered bodies out of that transit bus._

And once again, Greg had to concede that point. He thought it odd at first that David Flynn seemed unaffected by the tragedy and plight of the people he had come down to assist, but some of the video footage hinted that there was some emotion there. It was as if Flynn was more interested in WHAT caused the destruction in Mexico City instead of helping, but he was willing to step in as needed. It wasn't until they pulled out the partially buried transit bus and the dismembered remains of a child tumbled out that David Flynn promptly excused himself and Greg found him in the rubble of a demolished café, kneeling and throwing up. And for a moment, Greg saw fear and pain in that kid's eyes, but it was only a moment before the emotion was hidden behind the cold and calculating mask Flynn usually displayed.

Over the next few hours as they went through the rubble looking for more survivors, Greg would see a flicker of emotion on Flynn's face, mostly shock, but then he saw something else…a cold resolve, that became more evident whenever Flynn talked to any of the survivors.

"Did you happen to see who did this?" Flynn asked one woman in Spanish.

"A demon and death," the woman said.

Flynn nodded apologetically as he helped secure her to a stretcher, obviously believing the woman to be traumatized from shock. "A nova did this?" Flynn asked.

The woman shook her head and suddenly grabbed her arm. "No, it wasn't the demon…it was Death."

"Death?" repeated Flynn, catching what the woman was saying. "An actual being?"

"Yes." The woman coughed for a few moments. "Death in black…the demon tried to stop him." She was about to say more, but started choking, coughing up some blood.

Flynn stepped aside as a couple aid workers stepped in to take the woman to one of the support vehicles. There was a thoughtful look on his face as he approached Greg. "You've been filming various interviews, haven't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, along with other footage," Greg replied, momentarily caught off guard by Flynn's question.

"Relax, Paladino, I'm got going to ask you to turn anything over or demand you to show me everything you've recorded, but I am curious about something." Flynn looked over his shoulder, giving what appeared to be a casual glance, but Greg was certain from where Flynn was looking he was making sure none of the Utopia "escort teams" were nearby. "You don't have to answer this, if you don't want to," he finally said. "But is it just me or am I picking up a similar story from multiple sources?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is the tenth person I've talked to that has mentioned something about a fight between two novas right before the quake hit and that's the second person who distinctly said something along the lines of a 'demon' fighting someone in black."

"Well, according to witnesses back at the camp, Geryon was here."

"Yeah, I heard that too, and N!Channel is already trying to spin this as a possible Teragen attack." Flynn shook his head and wiped some of the sweat and dirt off his face. "And Utopia's selective response to this; is it just me or does this scream 'cover up' to you?"

Before Greg could answer Flynn's question, he was interrupted by Ted running up to join them. "You gotta' see this," Ted said as he popped open a canteen. He took a sip of water before he continued. "We found a section of town center that only partially collapsed into the subway tunnels below."

"Any survivors?" Flynn asked.

"A few," Ted replied. "And get this, according to witnesses, Geryon was involved and he was fighting someone near this location."

"Um, yeah, we know that, Ted," Flynn snickered lightly. He knew that Ted was holding back on something. "So let's have it."

"Have what?" Ted asked in mock innocence.

"The bombshell that you're just dying to drop on us," Flynn replied.

"Oh, you mean the part where a witness actually saw Geryon being buried alive in this area when the quake hit?"

Greg and Flynn exchanged looks, prompting Ted to ask, "You two aren't surprised by this, are you?"

"Oh yeah," Greg said, finally answering Flynn's question. "This definitely screams 'COVER-UP'."

"So what have you two found out?"

"Hey, I'm just a dumb corporate guy out here for a photo-op," Flynn chuckled, though Greg thought the humor sounded forced. "I know nothing…at least that's what the media will report."

"Yeah, well the REAL media representative is asking you nicely," Ted shot back before turning to Greg. "What's eating him?"

"Finding more dead than survivors," Greg replied. "Came a across a school bus earlier. Flynn here lost what little lunch he ate, and I'm starting to get to that point."

Ted nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it," he said. "Don't let it get to you too much, Flynn. Greg and I have been through some really ugly shit…a few drug wars…."

"Elite border skirmishes," Greg added.

"UN sanctioned 'Police Actions'."

"A few post mid-east elections riots."

"San Paulo bombing."

" Yugoslavia …three times."

" Afghanistan ."

"The US-Mexico Border war...the Alejandra concert in LA."

"Wait, you can't count the Alejandra concert as part of that," Ted said.

"Oh please," Greg snickered. "She wasn't involved, but some of the people promoting her tour were using their proceeds from her concerts to finance the drug cartels and paying off corrupt politicians to keep turning a blind eye."

"Yeah, but you can't count that as part of the Border War," Ted said. "That counts as two separate life threatening incidents, not one. Besides, I don't think Alejandra would support something like that."

"Probably not," Flynn said. "I've met her and, yes, I've seen her bank records…she and her family were innocent of that." Then he looked around at the devastation around them. "Although I don't need a mental link to any network to tell you that she'll probably be planning a string of benefit concerts in the next five days." He looked at one of the gauntlets on his hands and frowned. "Power's down to forty percent…probably only good for a couple more hours before I have to take it back to camp for a new battery and recalibration."

The three of them made their way back to where Ted came from. Neither of them said anything on the way there and Greg once again found himself wondering what Flynn's agenda was. It both impressed and bothered him how David Flynn seemed to easily make friends and get along with everybody (except for the Utopia security team which decided or was ordered to keep their distance from Flynn). He did note, however, that the Utopia team was paying attention to Flynn's device and noticed one of the members talking on a headset to, presumably, one of their superiors. The three novas assigned to help out in the rescue effort were respectful and professional, but Greg also noted that these were probably just nova employees and not actual T2M members.

_No surprise there since Flynn embarrassed Pax. Someone is obviously running damage control. A lot of people, particularly in the US , are a little worried about Utopia and I don't blame them. Flynn showing up here was obviously his way of causing trouble for them, but at least he's willing to help and not just pose for photos and leave._

He glanced at Flynn who was putting a pair of protective goggles over his eyes before starting to power up the gauntlets.

_So what exactly are you doing, kid? What's the agenda?_

"We're here," Ted said, breaking into Greg's thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

He looked around and realized that they were standing in the remains of what had once been a key transit transfer station for the subway system that ran under the city. Even though most of the nearby terrain had collapsed into a crater, the building was solid enough to still remain mostly intact, breaking into only three large chunks that were merely tilted at steep angles. As the three of them made their way down the crater towards an opening in the ground, they were greeted by one of the nova aid-workers, a reptilian humanoid creature wearing coveralls and a hard-hat. It would almost seem comical if it weren't for the dire situation and the serious look on the lizard-like face.

"Alright," the creature snapped with a Bronx accent and the authority of a drill instructor or someone well versed in working in this kind of situation. "As you can ssee we're on a ssection that collapsed on one of the main nerve centerss of their subway system. Some of the tunnelss are relatively intact below uss; in other wordss, they're probably not stable so be careful down there and, if dust starts falling from the ceiling, get the hell out of the area. We've been able to find a few survivorss and I'm getting heat readings of at least a dozen more in this area alone."

Ted raised his hand, the light smile on his face had Greg wondering if he was trying not to laugh at the way the man would occasionally hiss out some of the words. "Question…Mr…um…"

"Shapiro," the lizard-man hissed in mild irritation. "Make it quick, Mr. Media…we got people down there."

"Okay, just one. How come Team Tomorrow isn't being more active out here in helping you? I'm sure someone like Pax could clear this area out easily."

"T2M was called away on a more pressssing emergency," Shapiro replied, his irritation growing. "Apparently there's a place with bigger media coverage for them to show off and play hero."

Ted, Greg, and Flynn all exchanged looks. Apparently, they were all thinking the same thing.

_Well, I guess not all Utopia novas are lemmings._

"Now, if there aren't any more questionss," Shapiro continued, "let's get to work." He then, along with his own co-workers, started walking into the opening that led into the ruins below.

Greg and the others followed.

_Once more unto the breach…_

_

* * *

_

James coughed and found himself gasping for more air briefly before another cough cleared his airway, allowing him to spit bloody chunks on the ground next to where Booth was standing.

"Damn," Booth muttered, "that can't be good."

The monstrous nova turned his head to look at his baseline counterpart. "You're not helping, you know that?"

Booth snorted and shook his head. "What the hell do you want me to do?" he asked. "I'm not real, I'm you…well…a subconscious representation of the human you. I'm useless as far as you're concerned, a baseline. You're Geryon, the god-like monster!" He chuckled again. "And you're dying…kind of a pathetic end for a modern god, don't ya think?"

James wanted to charge and rip that little shit apart, but he knew that Booth was right. Booth wasn't real, just his own subconscious fucking with his head in his last hours. He had made his way out of the cavernous remains of the railway he had fallen into, only to have it collapse on him as he tried to climb towards an area where he thought he had seen daylight. Instead, he had to dig himself out and found himself in another spur of the Mexico City subway system. He lost most of the feeling in his legs an hour earlier, but he kept going, pounding away and digging towards what he hoped was the surface.

"Y'know," Booth was saying, "I never expected to die like this, though. I always thought it would be some sort of suicide mission 'for the cause' or maybe a battle against Pax." Booth shook his head again as James dropped down to his knees, coughing up more blood and gasping for breath between each heave. "I never figured on dying like a stray animal in the middle of nowhere."

"Not…dead…yet," James managed to gasp, pulling himself up off the ground for a moment before collapsing back down on his hands and knees.

"Don't be fooling yourself, Jimmy-boyo," Booth said, giving James a sad smile. "You gave it a good run, but death is inevitable here. Face it…for all your monstrous rhetoric…you just couldn't cut it. Nothing to be ashamed of…you just weren't good enough to make the grade."

"Shut up!" James snarled, pulling himself back up to his knees to stare at his phantom tormenter. "You don't have any right to judge me," he said. "I was doing the right thing."

"Yeah," Booth laughed, "key word there…'was'. Guess you really are giving up." He rolled up the sleeve on his jacket and looked at his watch. "Guess it won't be long now," he said, "tick…tock…tick…tock."

Images flashed through James' mind at the speed of thought, almost in a parody of his life flashing before his eyes. Memories, people, and places he had long forgotten or stopped caring about…paths not taken…his time as a nova and 'resistance fighter' for novas rights…and pain accompanied by the psychotic laughter of a madman in black armor.

Then there was a low rumbling sound, something primal, a spark of defiance that started at the base of James' throat.

More images of that smug and arrogant armored bastard laughing as he slaughtered novas and baselines alike…all for 'shits and grins'.

The rumbling got louder as James got back up on his feet. Fiery pain shot through his entire body, but it only seemed to feed the defiance within, setting off a spark that turned it into full blown rage as James imagined what that psychotic fucker would do if no one stopped him and the people he worked for. Suddenly the rage became a fire unleashed, killing whatever physical pain James was feeling as he reared back his head and screamed.

"_**GABRIEL!"**_

He proceeded to punch away at a wall of the cavern, focusing on that armored bastard.

Booth stood off to the side, watching his monstrous counterpart begin to literally punch his way towards the surface. "Oh lookie," he snickered, "it sounds like someone's finding their second wind. But do you really think that'll help? You're still dying…rage only is just a temporary fire."

"It. Will. Do. For. Now." James paused between each word as he punched away on the cavern. "But…I…will…not…die…here…"

"That's not good enough," Booth said as James stopped for a moment to glare at him. "Being an obstinate bastard doesn't count, what are you really fighting for?"

"Someone," James said as he resumed tearing his way towards freedom, "has to stop him." Fire seared through his chest, stunning him for a second, but he continued to blindly swing away. "Someone has to…someone has to…someone has…"

He then heard a frighteningly familiar sound; that sinister crackling sound of quantum energy before the rock wall in front of him exploded, knocking him off his feet, the bright blue flash blinding him as pain flooded his entire body.

"No," he choked out, as his strength left him. "Not dying…like this."

"Whoa!" he heard someone call out. "We got another survivor!"

"Don't jusst sstand there, dig him out," someone else snapped.

James blinked, trying to get the dirt and blood out of his eyes as he felt a couple pairs of hands try to prop him up while others pulled debris off his body.

"Shit," he heard someone mutter. "This guy's chest is all fucked up…look at his hands, bloody and raw…he must have tried digging his way out. Shapiro, tell me you got some docs topside."

James blinked again to clear his vision and made out several people wearing hard-hats and utility suits. One of the people was obviously a nova; either that or he was looking at an anthromorphic monitor lizard.

"Yeah, a relief team arrived about ten minutess ago," the lizard-man said. James tried not to laugh, but couldn't help it. It was kind of funny hearing a lizard hiss out words with a New York accent. "Mr. Flynn…do you have enough power to take our friend to the sssurface?"

James saw a young man with red hair wearing goggles, face caked with dust and dirt, make some adjustments to the oversized high-tech backpack he was wearing. "I should have enough, but I hope the damn thing doesn't blow up on me." He then looked at James and made eye contact. "Sir, if you can hear me, I need you to relax. I'm going to float you back up to the surface, so don't freak out."

"F-float?" James asked.

"Yeah, provided these gauntlets don't blow up in my face."

That was when James saw the crude-looking gauntlets the man wore on each hand, but it was the weird crackling blue energy dancing around the fingers that caught James' attention. "You…you…" he tried to say.

"Easy," the other man said. "Like I said, don't freak out. This shit's still experimental and I don't want it to blow up on me."

Before James could react, he was suddenly cocooned by the crackling blue energy field as it gently lifted him off the ground. However, it didn't feel like it did last time. When he was fighting Gabriel, it felt like he was being electrocuted when that field grabbed him. But this was different, he felt like he was floating in water but not getting wet. It was a weird sensation. A few minutes later, they had made their way to the surface. During that time, James had figured out that he must have dormed down right before they found him; this was confirmed when James brought one of his arms up and saw that it was a human arm.

"Easy," the young man…Flynn, the lizard man called him…said again as he lowered James onto a stretcher. "You did enough trying to dig your way out, just relax." When he was certain James was secure on the stretcher, he deactivated the field then swore as he yanked off one of the gauntlets and shook his hand. "Shit, I'm still getting some damn feedback…not going to feel anything in my hand for an hour now."

"Th-that...tech," James managed to rasp, pointing at Flynn's gauntlets while a couple emergency workers continued to strap him down to the stretcher for transport. "Saw it…before."

"Not likely," Flynn said, still shaking his hand, "my stuff is still experimental and hazardous to my health."

"No." James could feel his strength fading as exhaustion started to overtake him, but he managed to push aside the oxygen mask one worker was pressing against his face. "It…was here."

Flynn stopped shaking his hand and looked James in the eye. "Excuse me," he said as he pulled up the safety goggles he wore and stepped closer to James. "What do you mean 'it was here'?"

James could feel his consciousness fading fast, but he had to tell someone. From what he saw of this Flynn's technology, it was similar to Gabriel's but crude in comparison. Gathering what strength he could, he lunged forward and grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt. "Zero…" he managed to stammer out, trying to remember what Gabriel had told him. "He said it…it was zero-point…technology…"

And then oblivion claimed him.


	6. Aftermath Part 6

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, don't own Aberrant. Disney/Pixar owns the first, White Wolf owns the second (but that will change if I ever with the MegaMillions).

Author's Notes: Okay, this is going to be the final part of the Aftermath arc. I'm sorry for the quick ending on this, but keep in mind, Mexico City will not be rebuilt "overnight" and forgotten. The spectre of Mexico City will be lurking around for some time to come and we're going to be experiencing some "aftershocks" related to it. And for those of you Incredibles fans who are still here (though I think I scared some of you away); YES, I did bring in a character from the comic and we will be seeing more of her.

As usual, I also want to thank those people who are still around and reading this thing...especially the guy (or girl?) from Russia. Don't know who you are or why you've stuck around, but thanks.

Also, I know I don't usually do this, but I would like some feedback. No I'm not asking for reviews (though that would be nice), I would like your opinion on something. Should I do something about that annoying Air America radio personality, Brandi Miller? For those of you who have been reading my stories, you know this bitch has been making life hell for David on the airwaves. Should I do something about her? I would like your opinion, so feel free to drop it in the reviews or send me a PM.

* * *

_"Let it be said that Mexico City is where everything changed. Though we did not know who was behind it at the time or what it meant, it represented a crossroads of a sort. It was an event that changed many people, including some in our own ranks. One of our own, one who I considered to be a careless fanatic and blind to 'the big picture', had been there at the middle of it. Though we sent people to look for him, we couldn't find him. However, we do know now that he survived, but he had also changed. What he didn't know is how much he did change. Then again, many of us were changed by the event."_

_-Pedro Santiago, "The Mathematician"_

_

* * *

_

_**Mexico City**_

_**96 Hours After Incident**_

David was sitting on the tailgate of one of the Hummers, making adjustments on the power-pack to his ZP gauntlets; at least that what it looked like to most people who happened to walk by or look in his direction. However, that was just a show for the public and serving as a distraction as he mentally replayed the events from the beginning of what the media had dubbed "The Blue Haze" to the present. He remembered a lot of scorn he got from most of the world media (particularly those who were Utopia affiliated) for going down there. The accusations were pretty predictable…he was using this to boost his image, he was trying to embarrass Utopia, or he was just buying political favor.

While it was true that his actions did a lot to embarrass Utopia, that was just a bonus for David. He was also sure that his actions did, indeed, boost his image to the public, but he definitely wasn't buying political favor. The only "political" element involved, as far as David was concerned, was NSA Director Richard Dicker showing up on his doorstep and politely _**requesting**_David's assistance. In other words, Dicker ordered David (and a few other non-Utopia affiliated novas) to go. David, knowing that Utopia would try to put their own slant on it in the media, immediately contacted several networks he knew who were not Utopia mouthpieces. And yes, while the reports they beamed out to the rest of the world during Utopia's attempt to control the news footage did score David some points in the court of public opinion, he didn't care. Sure, there were the usual Utopia sycophants who still lambasted him (ABC, NBC, CBS, MSNBC, N!Channel, and that annoying bitch on Air America), but he didn't care about them either. Truth be told, he didn't care what anyone thought of him at the moment, because that wasn't why he came here. In fact, he would have come to Mexico City even if Dicker hadn't _**requested**_ it. He went to Mexico City because he was afraid he had an idea of what might have happened.

A few people knew that, because of his powers, David was almost constantly linked to the 'net or any electronic network that was nearby. The best way he could describe the sensation was saying it was like standing in a room and being surrounded by thousands of television sets, each set having something different playing. If something caught his attention, he would focus on it and others talking about similar things related to it, and the rest would go away (or simply fade into the background). He couldn't really shut it off, but he was able to imagine hitting a "mute" key that kept all that information from flooding him all at once, but it would always be playing in the background at some level.

So when the "Blue Haze" hit Mexico City, it was as if a chunk of the 'net suddenly went dark. No electronic traffic was going to or coming from Mexico City. The next thing David did was mentally link to various satellite networks which immediately showed him what they were picking up. One of the satellites was picking up some massive quantum readings, but the effects were similar to a nuke being detonated high up in the atmosphere...causing the equivalent of an EMP burst, but not doing much else. Then there were the three quantum surges he detected twenty minutes afterwards, followed seconds later by actual geological tremors that were felt clear up the Mexico and California coastlines.

What bothered David, and the real reason he came down here to Mexico City, was that the signature from the quantum bursts looked (and felt) familiar. The first thing he did, after the confrontation with Pax, was break out some equipment and start scanning the area for any residual quantum energy before it completely dissipated. Unfortunately, the readings were too dissipated to give him confirmation, but he had a sinking feeling he was right. That sinking feeling was confirmed when survivors started talking about novas and someone wearing armor that shot "crackling blue energy". He kept hoping he was wrong, but the final nail in the coffin of his doubt came when he personally dragged some British guy out of the rubble using his experimental ZP gauntlets. The man's eyes widened when he saw the gauntlets, claiming he saw that tech before. David was hoping the man was merely delusional, having suffered from being buried alive and seriously injured.

Then the man, pushing aside the oxygen mask, lunged forward and grabbed David by the front of his shirt. "Zero…" the man managed to choke out, loosening his grip. "He said it…it was zero-point…technology…"

The man collapsed and dropped back on the stretcher, unconscious, but the damage had been done. What David feared was true; someone out there, other than himself, had access to some of Buddy Pine's more advanced technology.

_And that's a very short list. Utopia got a large chunk of their hardware from what their masters at Aeon gave them. But even then, they still had to reverse-engineer a lot of that shit and went through a lot of failures. Although I still can't believe those bastards are manufacturing Omnidroids. But still…even they aren't capable of ZP tech._

A shadow fell over him, prompting David to look up. Greg Paladino was standing there with a coffee cup in each hand. "Damn, you've been kind of quiet," the cameraman said as he handed David one of the paper cups.

"Just thinking," David replied before he took a sip of his coffee, "and trying to figure out how to get this damn thing to work without it threatening to blow up on me."

"Bullshit," Paladino said as he sat down next to David.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you're trying to work on this crazy contraption of your, but that's not what's been bugging you." Paladino finished off the rest of his own coffee, draining the cup before setting it aside. "That guy said something to you, didn't he?"

"You really don't miss a thing, do you, Paladino?"

"Hey, I'm a cameraman," Paladino chuckled, "I'm supposed to pick up on things that might warrant attention."

"It's nothing," David said. "At least, nothing I can prove."

"Oh, so you got something?"

"Yeah, I have the same info you have. Geryon of the Teragen was here and he was fighting somebody." David paused for a moment, contemplating how much he should tell the other man. "Fuck it," he finally said. "I might as well tell you now. He said the guy Geryon was fighting had some sort of advanced technology and that it looked a little bit like mine."

The smile on the other man's face faded. "What?"

"You heard me. Someone was using Zero Point technology."

"You're sure of this?"

"Yeah, that's what the poor bastard told me before he passed out. He even called it by name." David looked out at the rest of the camp for a moment before looking back to Paladino. "What bothers me is that if there's someone out there with this kind of technology and, if what that guy said was true, they committed one of the worst acts of terrorism in history and I got the sinking feeling that this is just the beginning."

"You think this is going to happen again?"

"Again?" David shook his head. "I think it's happened before. Remember a week ago when that nova team was slaughtered in San Francisco?"

"Yeah, the Protectors. Only one member survived and they said she was still in a coma. They initially accused Bomber of being behind it."

"Yeah, but when they started getting eye witness statements, Utopia found out that Bomber wasn't behind the attack. He was fighting a guy who, according to witnesses, was wearing black armor and using high-tech weaponry."

"I remember that," Paladino said. "But then they kind of backed off on the public statements after it was revealed that Bomber wasn't behind it." He was about to say something else when his cell-phone went off. "Yeah? Really…okay…no problem, Ted. I'll meet up with you and Maria in ten. See ya." He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket, then looked back at David. "Ted wants to me to help Maria edit and put all the footage together. Apparently, the old man is impressed with what we've done down here and wants to give Ted a network exclusive report on their W5 program."

"W5? Isn't that the Canadian version of CBS' '60 minutes', but without the political bias?"

Paladino laughed at that. "Kind of," he said as he got up off the truck. "Trust me, the Canadian media has their own political bias...they just happen to be more professional about it than, say for example, the idiots at MSNBC."

"Yeah," David smirked. "I hear Chris Matthews has a hard time interviewing anyone of importance without pissing his pants these days."

"Gee," Paladino snapped, "and I wonder why all the pro-Utopia outlets hate you." He grinned and shook his head, extending his hand to David. "For what it's worth kid, you're okay. Yeah, you're something of a cocky little punk, but you're not afraid to step in and help."

David shook the man's head. "So…we're cool?" he asked.

"Yeah, but don't get me wrong. I wouldn't say we're friends, but you obviously aren't your father." Paladino paused for a moment, a serious expression on his face. "Although, I have to tell you," he warned, "there are some of us out there who may not trust you."

"Tell me about it," David said. He started to return his attention to his pack, but stopped when the other man touched him on the shoulder.

"Flynn…David, I'm serious," Paladino said. "I'll do what I can on my end, but some might not listen to reason…the pain goes too deep for them."

"I know that." David studied the man for a second. "Is there something I need to know?"

Paladino shook his head. "Nah, it's just…never mind, I'll take care of it on my end. Take care of yourself, kid." He then turned and walked back towards the center of the camp, leaving David there to wonder what he meant.

After a couple seconds, he shook his head and went back to working on his pack. He had other things to think about than the possibility of second-generation supers wanting to target him for revenge. Someone was out there with his father's tech and if he didn't find out whom, many more might be screaming for his blood.

_Fuck it,_ he thought as he shoved the pack aside and then proceeded to lock it up in the Hummer. _I need to talk to that witness._

As he started to walk away from the Hummer, he heard the sound of rotor blades and looked up to see four more helicopters coming. Three of the choppers were obviously transports and carrying more medical supplies, but the third one looked like a tourist rental. He watched as the three transports made their way towards the designated landing area, but the fourth one proceeded to land near the Hummer.

_Okay, who the hell is this? It's no one we sent for, it's not Red Cross, and Utopia sure as hell wouldn't use a tourist chopper, particularly a high-end model._

He watched the one chopper land and the passenger door opened to reveal a tall and muscular dark-skinned man with a shaved head and wearing an expensive Italian suit. David's eyes widened as he recognized the man who stepped off the chopper and then waved at him as he approached.

_No…fucking…way!_

"David Flynn," the man called out, his deep rich voice easily heard over the sound of the rotor blades as the tourist chopper took off and then proceeded to return back to wherever it had come from. The man stopped in front of David who was still staring in disbelief. "Mr. Flynn," the man said, extending his hand to David. "Raoul Cristobal Orzaiz. I've wanted to talk to you for some time."

* * *

_**Project Utopia Offices**_

_**New York City**_

Director Thetis almost choked on her herbal tea as she watched the live footage of Teragen spokesman Raoul Orzaiz shake hands with David Flynn and then proceed to give an impromptu press conference, talking about "unity and solidarity in this time of tragedy and loss". The good Count Orzaiz then explained that, while the novas of the Teragen considered themselves a separate species, they could not in good conscience just stand by and watch the great tragedy that had fallen upon Mexico City and do nothing to help their baseline brethren.

However, Thetis had to give the Spaniard credit where it was due; he certainly knew how to make an entrance.

_Even David Flynn is at a loss for words and seems taken aback by this chain of events._

"Ozaki," she called out.

A couple seconds later, the door to her office opened and Hideo Ozaki entered the room. "Yes, Director," he said before turning to glance at the monitor on Thetis' wall, "I assume you wish to discuss this sudden turn of events?"

Despite the situation, Thetis felt the hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Sarcasm, Hideo?"

"If it's of any comfort, to you, Director, I am certain Phillipa Lavielle is probably suffering the same amount of distress that you are." This time, he actually smiled. "If anyone could undo Lavielle's attempt at damage control, it would be Orzaiz. He is quite the statesman; it is a pity that he could not be swayed to our side."

"Indeed," Thetis agreed, "but his presence and the Teragen providing humanitarian aid could undermine our attempts to win the hearts and minds of survivors."

"With all due respect, Director, I doubt that is the Teragen plan. I am surprised that they were able to act this quickly, but their involvement was not unexpected especially when it became apparent that Geryon was down there in Mexico City at the time of the event."

Thetis shook her head. "The Event," she repeated, "you have a knack for downplaying earth-shattering tragedies, don't you, Hideo?"

"It's my task to analyze situations and respond to them accordingly, Director," Ozaki said. "We knew that Pine, upon his escape, would do something upon his escape. We just didn't think he was capable of something this…epic."

"One of us did," Thetis said, giving her friend a sad smile, "and we should have listened to her."

"Yes, Mirage did warn us, but what's done is done and now we have to work to retake control of the situation." Ozaki pointed a remote at the screen and live feed was replaced by an image of the nova terrorist called Geryon. "As for the Teragen action, I think it's more about Geryon than them trying to embarrass us."

"You believe the reports that he was down there?"

"Yes, and I believe that this 'humanitarian' aid on the part of Orzaiz is a cover to allow them to locate and extract Geryon."

"Unless Pine killed him," Thetis thought out loud.

"Wishful thinking, but I doubt we are that fortunate." Ozaki thumbed the remote again and the monitor returned to live footage, this time from CTV. "However, on the other hand, I have arranged for CTV to get a message. Their reports have been damaging, but they will be dealt within the near future."

"I take it our agent was successful?" asked Thetis.

"Yes," Ozaki replied. "Mezmerella was able to compromise one of the CTV crew…a technician by the name of Maria Ortiz."

"Mezmerella." Thetis allowed herself a cruel chuckle. "Well, that will be brutal," she said, remembering how vicious and subtle that particular Proteus operative could be. "Now, back to Flynn, what has been up to lately other than causing a PR nightmare for us in Mexico?"

"As you well, know, he's been hiring a lot of intelligent young people for his company, SST. I have reason to believe that most, if not all of them, are novas or children of the previous generation of supers." Ozaki tapped another key on the remote and the screen displayed an image of the SST building. "In fact," he continued, "I am certain that everyone there has some sort of power or ability."

"Creating his own army of novas?"

Ozaki shook his head. "Doubtful," he said. "The novas he has hired, at least the ones we have information on, are highly qualified for the jobs he hired them for. He's been hiring programmers, engineers, technicians, and even some medical staff." The image of the SST building faded to be replaced by another facility that looked like it was encased in glass and steel. "What I find interesting is that Flynn has been very quiet about his company's recent purchase of this facility in Arizona."

It took her a moment to recognize the structure, but even Thetis was surprised to find that it was still standing. "That's the old Biosphere 2 project," she said, "I thought it was disbanded or at least sold to some developer to convert to a resort."

"It is," Ozaki confirmed, "but Flynn offered the University of Arizona generous deal and I've learned that he has had a couple inspection teams go through it. Again, he hasn't been very public about this purchase, but he hasn't been hiding it either. I suspect that he intends to resume the original experiment."

"Given the people he has hired and his own capabilities, I can see him actually succeeding in getting it running and working properly." Thetis sighed and shook her head. "It's a pity that Aeon intentionally sabotaged the project back in nineties, the initial concept had so much promise."

"Well, it did pose a threat to the similar project that Aeon was privately conducting for Project Phoenix. Unfortunately, we can't sabotage Flynn and, to be honest, I think we should let him continue this project. It's obvious that he is taking this project seriously and it will probably keep him from focusing too much on us."

"Somehow I doubt that." Thetis shrugged. "On the other hand, if you're right and he's trying to avoid drawing publicity to it, this might be part of his agenda."

"An agenda we still can't define, Director," Ozaki mused as he tapped the remote again and the screen switched back to the live news feed of the Teragen's Count Orzaiz walking and talking with David Flynn. "And I'm not certain where it leads…not yet, anyway."

* * *

_**Camp "Makeshift"**_

_**Mexico City**_

David kept quiet most of the time during Count Orzaiz visit, only talking to reporters who addressed him directly; but that didn't happen much because Orzaiz, despite his pro-Teragen stance, was a very popular nova and his mere presence pretty much made David disappear into the background. And David was okay with that, because he really didn't want to be in the spotlight. In fact, upon Orzaiz' arrival, David would have been more than happy to "vanish" and resume with the aid work.

However, Orzaiz insisted that David accompany him through the camp and help oversee distribution of the Teragen supplies. David wasn't sure of the Count's reasoning, but he was starting to suspect that Orzaiz wanted his presence there to have the media link him to the Teragen. A quick glance at one of the N!Channel reporters confirmed his suspicions.

_And there she goes, yapping away in front of the camera. She's not going to say it directly, but she and some of the others are going to slant it that way._

He rolled his eyes as he thought of someone else who would no doubt be having a field day tomorrow once those reports hit the net.

_And, of course, Air America's favorite psychotic bitch is going to probably accuse me of being a front for the Teragen._

As much as he detested most of the pro-Utopia media outlets, he didn't really hold anything against the people personally. As far as he was concerned, they were mostly misinformed about how the world really worked; they were simply doing their jobs, not pursuing a personal vendetta. However, that couldn't be said of Brandi Miller.

For whatever reason, Ms. Miller went out of her way to target David. Since the Utopia attack on SST, every Brandi Miller show started with a monologue that ranted and raved about how America is fucked up and that people like David Flynn were the source of the problem and preventing progress. David couldn't figure out what was more hilarious about the situation; the fact that this crazy bitch seemed to obsess about him or the fact that a lot of listeners out there actually bought the shit she shoveled down their throats every morning.

_What bothers me is that she's been trying extra hard to target me lately. Maybe I should do some checking and make sure that she's merely being obsessive and not being "encouraged" to go after me. Air America almost went belly-up a year ago until they received a shitload of donations._

"You've been unusually quiet, Mr. Flynn," Count Orzaiz said, his rich cultured voice breaking David's train of thought. "I'm surprised that you didn't capitalize on my presence."

David smiled at him. "My apologies, Count," he said, "would you believe me if I told you that your presence has overwhelmed me and that I have been humbled."

"Ah," the Count chuckled, "there's the famed David Flynn sarcasm I've heard about." He paused for a moment to wave at some of the refugees, then he led David towards one of the Teragen helicopters. "Tell me," he said, "what is it that troubles you? It is obvious that you've been lost in thought well before I arrived."

"A lot of things trouble me, Count, take your pick. One of the things that's been bothering me is the real reason your here." He held a hand up to forestall the other man's objection. "And please spare me the altruistic rhetoric of not being able to stand by in the wake of such a tragedy. If the situation was slightly different, I know you would arrange to still send aid, but you wouldn't have come directly and you wouldn't have brought a few novas to accompany you."

If the Count was offended by David's blunt comment, he didn't show it. In fact, there was still a hint of a smile and a slight nod of approval as he looked at David for a moment before speaking again. "Well," he finally said, "Mal was right about you. "And you are correct in your assumptions, I did not have to come here."

"And," David added with a smile of his own, "you are here to conduct a rescue operation of a sort, aren't you? You wouldn't happen to be looking for a lost friend, would you?"

"Though we do agree on some issues, I would hardly consider that person a friend."

"Well, I'm not sure if it's any consolation to you, but they haven't found him."

"What about the novas of Team Tomorrow Americas?"

"Oh they found five of the seven," David said. "Eyewitnesses said the other two were vaporized when one of them exploded."

Orzaiz shook his head. "A tragedy," he said, "they may not have been friends, but they did not deserve this."

"Careful, Count," David smirked, "you never know if Utopia's got one of their media stooges lurking around to record you and edit the footage."

Orzaiz laughed and slapped David on the back. "Spoken like a man who spends too much time with vipers," he said. "But as you said, this is a rescue mission of a sort. These unfortunate people require aid."

"And what about those who can't be found?" David asked, carefully avoiding the mention of Geryon's name.

"We can only wait," the Count replied, "wait and hope for the best."

"Well you can wait and hope, Count Orzaiz, but I have to get back to work before the media truly decides to crucify me." David shook his head and laughed. "On second thought, being crucified is a given."

"It always is." Orzaiz smiled again. "The trick, Flynn, is to make sure they don't have any nails to do the job."

"I'll keep that in mind," David said as he started to walk away and back towards the camp. "Unfortunately, Utopia's got plenty of nails."

Ten minutes later, David was able to track down one of the medics he had worked with earlier and asked if they knew where the one survivor he found in the subway tunnels had gone. They told him to look in one of the tents being used as a recovery ward, which he did. However, after another twenty minutes, he confirmed what he had suspected...the man was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Count Orzaiz returned to his helicopter to find his fellow Teragen member, Feral, leaning against the tail section, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Count," she said, "but I can't sense him."

"That doesn't mean he's dead," Orzaiz said, hoping his tone assured her. "Remember, he can dorm down so your quantum tracking won't work."

"Even so, why hasn't he approached us yet?" Feral asked.

The Count pondered that question before he answered her. It wasn't like Geryon to not check in after something as cataclysmic as this.

_But I don't think we've ever encountered as situation such as this,_ he thought to himself. _For all we know, he could be dead, but somehow I doubt it._

"If he survived this," he finally said, "he will contact us when he feels it is safe."

"So what did the 'wunderchilde' have to say?"

"If you're referring to David Flynn, he didn't say much. But I think it's safe to say that he, like us, didn't come down here out of concern for the citizens of Mexico City."

"What makes you so certain of that, Count?"

"My dear," Orzaiz said as he reached inside the helicopter and pulled out bottle of water, "I have learned to study people and how they act given the kind of social circles I tend to deal with. It is clear that David Flynn came down here for some other reason." He paused as he saw more helicopters approach the area, these sporting the familiar blue and gold of Project Utopia. "And despite what the media will claim," he continued, "I know it wasn't for publicity."

* * *

"_The Teragen contingent departed shortly after the arrival of more Project Utopia support craft. While they did bring in much needed supplies for the survivors of Mexico City, people are asking what the true motive was behind the Teragen's presence in the first place. Were they truly here to help, or were they here for another reason..."_

_-MSNBC News_

"_Despite the popularity of the notorious Count Orzaiz, the Teragen's attempts to improve their reputation in the court of public opinion fell flat..."_

_-N!Channel News_

"_Shortly after the departure of the Teragen representatives, David Flynn announced that he too would be returning to Metroville, but assured the people that his firm would continue to provide relief efforts as long as Utopia needed his assistance. Project Utopia officials could not be reached for comment..."_

_-CTV News_

"_You have to give the little shit credit. I mean, this punk is only eighteen and he's rubbing elbows with known terrorist celebrities. And now he's saying that his company will continue to provide relief effort as Utopia 'needs' his assistance? Even I have to admit he's got some brass ones to spit in the face of Utopia like that. I just hope someone over there as the good sense to cut them off and send that little bastard on his way."_

_-Air America, "The Brandi Miller Show"_

"_I like conspiracies as much as the next guy, and I'm sure a lot of people are just going nuts finding ways to link Flynn to the Teragen. Hell, I'm sure a lot of PR people at Utopia are being PAID to spin stories to make it look that way. But let's get some things straight here...I believe David Flynn has his own agenda. Remember, he showed up way before the Teragen group arrived and, quite frankly, he actually participated in helping dig people out of the rubble which can't be said of the Teragen. Some would say that his only intent was to embarrass Utopia, but I'm not buying it."_

_-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"_


	7. Meanwhile I

Disclaimer:

Don't own Aberrant or Incredibles. White Wolf still owns the one and has long abandoned it, but still won't part with the rights. Incredibles, owned by Pixar/Disney.

Author's Notes: Okay...this is going to be a series of short chapters here. I almost made this a separate story, but decided not to since it is part of WoA. Just so you know...it's about three days after the Mexico City Disaster. Gabriel hasn't given his "speech" yet (but don't worry, it's coming). People have asked me about what some of the other key characters have been doing while David was off in Mexico City. Well, I hope this small plot-arc will answer your questions. Yes, these are short...but look at it this way...it means quicker updates for this arc. But don't worry, the next major arc will have more "meat" to it.

* * *

To: All Utopia Nova operatives

From: Caestus Pax, Director, Team Tomorrow Central

Subject: Team Tomorrow Americas

As some of you may know, we have lost contact with T2M Americas and we have seen evidence indicating that they may all be dead. We do not know who is behind this, but I would advise all nova personnel being interviewed by the media to remain silent on the matter and to politely tell them that no information is currently available.

If what we suspect is true, we may have to activate an auxiliary team. In addition to the situation in Mexico City, the new team will also have to deal with the Beta Level threat that has surfaced in California. Though he has done nothing wrong that we can detain him for, consider David Flynn as big a threat as the Teragen.

* * *

_**Location: Unknown (But it's dark and cramped)**_

_**Destination: En Route to...somewhere**_

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

_Ow._

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

_Where the hell am I? Okay…eyes open, please. Wait…my eyes are opened…why can't I see anything? Hey, why can't I move?_

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

Ka-Thump!

_And what the hell is with that 'Ka-Thump'-ing noise?_

It took him a few more seconds to regain his bearings after having just woken up, but it didn't take Jean-Paul Renard too long to figure out where he was.

_Okay…I'm in a vehicle, we're going over seams in a road, probably a freeway bridge...what the hell am I doing in the trunk of a car? And dammit, why am I duct-taped?_

Images of what had previously happened to him prior to waking up flashed through his mind.

San Francisco and his diving off the Golden Gate…his battle with some idiot in black-armor and carrying high-tech gear…his saving a slamming-hot (but unattainable) heroine…being buried by a building…waking up in a hospital…getting drugged in said hospital…accused of murdering some heroes (and attempting to murder aforementioned slamming-hot and unattainable heroine)…drugged again...then shot at…stabbed…witnessing a bizarre encounter with his best friend/enemy and Totentanz…still enjoying the high brought from the drugs he was juiced up on…bailed out/rescued by some unknown guy who shot said best friend/enemy in back (and front) and shot Totentanz…and finally getting pistol whipped and knocked unconscious by his would-be (and unknown) benefactor.

_Okay...and how did I end up here? Better question…where exactly is here?_

He felt the car (he assumed it had to be a car) slow down and stop. He heard, and felt, the front door of the car open and heard the familiar sound of feet crunching on gravel as the person approached the trunk. He tried to struggle and break free out of his restraints, but his arms and legs were too well duct-taped together. He heard the key enter the lock of the trunk and was rewarded with a bright blinding light shining in his face when the trunk hatch opened, causing him to squint. He could barely make out the silhouette of someone standing there, but he recognized the voice as belonging to his would-be rescuer (and now captor).

"You're not supposed to be awake yet."

"Fuck you, assho-" Jean never finished his comeback because the mag-light slammed into his face and knocked him out cold, once again engulfing him in blackness. And yet, before he completely sank into oblivion, he felt a sense of déjà-vu as a familiar thought went through his brain.

_Dammit? Why is it always the face?_

_

* * *

_

_**Silicon Cafe**_

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**1800 hrs**_

Ashley Winthrop had finished counting out the deposit for the day and was filling out the deposit slip for a night drop when she heard an argument from somewhere in the lobby of the building.

"When were you going to tell me, Null?" Ashley had no trouble identifying Zoe's voice, especially when it took on that almost hostile tone.

"Um...never." As usual, Null was blunt and sarcastic in his answer.

"Never!" Zoe shrieked.

"Hey, David knew you would go ballistic if you found out."

"That's not true!"

There was a crackling sound followed by a pop as pink-white lighting sent a chair flying across the lobby before it crashed into a table belonging to the cafe.

"Oh yeah, your the vision of restraint," Null grumbled.

"Hey," Ashley called out, "can you two try not to cause too much damage?"

A few seconds later Zoe and Null entered the cafe. "Sorry, Ash," Zoe said as she and Null picked up the chair. "Things have been a little tense with David gone to Mexico and other shit happening."

"Zoe," Null warned, "don't bring it up, she doesn't need to know."

"I don't believe you," Zoe snapped, "he's your best friend and you're just going to let it slide?"

"David said he'd take care of it, but he's kind of busy down in Mexico at the moment."

"So the world fastest douche bag gets a fucking pass for beating the shit out of my guy? I don't think so!"

Ashley let out a loud whistle. "Whoa, whoa, hold on a second," she said. "What this about?"

"Don't worry about it, Ash," Null said, "it's David's problem and he said he'd take care of it. Don't get involved." He then turned back to Zoe. "And you need to stay low, Zoe. Your parents aren't happy with the fact you left Arcadia. If it weren't for the fact that they got mobilized with the Crusaders to help with the downed aircraft, they'd have stormed the front doors and dragged you back home. Just stay cool and wait until David gets back, okay?"

"And I suppose Emo-Girl defended her brother," Zoe growled.

"Actually, Violet was shocked at what her brother did."

"Um..guys, are we talking about Violet and Dash Parr?" Ashley asked as she zipped up the deposit bag and stashed it in the drawer of the register.

"No."

"Yes."

Both Null and Zoe glared at each other after their spoken answers.

"Ooookay," Ashley said, stepping from behind the counter of the espresso bar. "Let me ask you this question: Does this have something to do with the fact that David looked like he had the shit beat out of him a fews ago and needed one of Nigel's specialized painkiller concoctions which had him acting like Jack Sparrow the following morning?"

The description of that event momentarily broke Zoe's angry mood, causing her to blink in surprise. "Um...what?"

"Yeah." Ashley nodded and pointed at one of the mini-palm trees that marked the boundary of cafe area. "David stumbled down here early that morning, having a conversation with that tree over there until Nigel came down and took him back to his office." She shook her head and failed to hide the smile on her face. "He was actually challenging it to a duel."

Again, Zoe blinked in surprise and disbelief.

"Shit," Null said, barely managing to stifle a chuckle. "I didn't know about that. I wonder if we still have video of that somewhere." Then his smile faded and he became serious. "Zoe," he said softly, "I know you want to get some payback on the little shit, I know I want to...but let David handle this."

"Null, this is David we're talking about, he's cool for a geek and decent when it comes to fighting, but Parr is a fucking speedster, David's nowhere near his league. He didn't even use the-"

"Zoe, no!" Null snapped. "We don't talk about THAT...ever!"

"Um...are we talking about the power dampener?"

Again, both Zoe and Null fell silent, shocked at Ashley's revelation.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Null cleared his throat. "Um, Ash...no offense, but how do you know about that?"

"Probably because he let me test it a couple times?"

"He what?" both Null and Zoe exclaimed in unison.

"You heard me," Ashley said as she reached over the counter and grabbed her coat. "He's mentioned the possibility of designing one small enough for me to wear as a bracelet. He says he has a prototype for it already designed, but it only lasts a few minutes. I need one that lasts a little longer."

"Okay, next question," Zoe said, "why would you want to shut your powers down for more than five minutes, if ever?"

"Because there aren't enough guys out there who can withstand my strength." Ashley paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Then again, I suppose there are some people who think being crushed to death by my thighs while I climax might be worth it."

Zoe's face suddenly flushed with embarrassment as she realized that Ashley had a point. "Oh," she said. "I hadn't thought of that."

Null, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought. "Actually," he said after thinking about it, "it's really not a bad way to go." Zoe tried to smack him on the back of the head, but he managed to mist out and chuckled as her hand harmlessly passed through him. "Hey, I was only joking."

"And I have higher standards," Ashley smirked at him.

Null pretended to clutch his chest in pain. "Oh...god...that hurt...sort of." Then he got serious again. "Look, Zoe, I mean it. Just stay out of trouble and let David handle this, okay?"

Zoe said nothing for several seconds and then finally nodded. "Okay," she said.

"Okay, then we're done here," Null said as he started to leave. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm heading over to Shiro's; he's hosting a poker game and I want in." He stopped at the entrance to the cafe and momentarily turned around. "I mean it, Zoe...stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Null, relax," she assured him, "I'm not going after him."

"Okay, so long as we're clear on that." He then turned around and left.

Zoe waited several seconds, then looked over at Ashley and smiled. "At least not right now," she said. "Hey Ash, can I borrow your cell-phone?"

"Um, sure. Why?"

"Because I'm sure Null has my cell-phone monitored, so I'm going to use yours to make a call."

"You're going after the Parr bastard, aren't you?"

"Like I said, not right now." Zoe smiled at the other woman. "I just need to make a phone call."

Ashley thought about it for a moment, then handed Zoe her phone. "Okay, so long as you're not going to do something stupid."

"Ash, I'm just calling a clothing designer."

"You're kidding, right? Why do you need my phone to call a clothing designer?"

Zoe shook her head and grinned as she dialed the number. "Ah, Ash, you are in for a treat. Just curious, who provided your Eufiber suit when you were in the XWF?"

"It was an Anibal Buendia custom."

Zoe shook her head in disgust. "Buendia...he's nothing compared to this person." She waited a few seconds, frowning as it rang and smiled when someone picked up on the other end. "Hello, Edna? It's me, Zoe Kilmarten."

Ashley almost jumped when she saw Zoe suddenly hold the phone at arms length and heard a loud raspy voice say, "Daaaaaahhhliiiiiing!" She didn't hear the rest of what the woman on the other end said, but she saw Zoe almost visibly wince and giggle nervously.

"Yeah...it's been a while," Zoe said, her face reddening slightly, "I've grown up a little since then. Um, look, Edna...I was wondering, can I make an appointment?"


	8. Meanwhile II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant or Incredibles. White Wolf still owns the one and has long abandoned it, but still won't part with the rights. Incredibles, owned by Pixar/Disney.

Author's Notes: Okay...I was on painkillers and mochas when I wrote this. Just so you know...yes, I admit that I ripped off/borrowed Itsjustsomerandomguy's "Goblin Bloggin" song, though I did make some changes to it. If you guys get a chance, I recommend that you check out his videos...they are hilarious. I also borrowed an idea from Scrubs (their "Payback is a Bitch" song).

As usual, thanks to all those people for sticking around on this crazy ride. Just to warn you, this chapter was pretty much me trying to take a break and get away from the "doom and gloom" theme that pervades this story, and yet I didn't want to walk away. I'm just trying for a little bit of comedy relief with this arc before I resume taking you back to some really dark and depressing territory.

Oh...and whoever the two people are in Italy and Russia...thanks for sticking around. Hope to actually hear from you some day, but I'm just shocked that I'm getting people from over there (and several other locations around the world) and you've been sticking with me. Thank you! And then there's the usual suspects who are beginning to become too many. Thanks to all of you as well.

* * *

_(The screen flickers to show a plastic action figure made to look like Bomber...actually, it's a Ken Doll with customized clothing...dancing to a cheesy song being sung badly by some guy who sounds like he's drunk)_

_**Where in the world has Bomber gone and when in holy Hell will there be a another blog?**_

_**Did he get penned?**_

_(cut to a scene of the Bomber action figure being locked in a cage)_

_**Did he get banned?**_

_(cut to a scene of the Bomber figure sitting in front of a computer with a "forbidden" message on the screen)_

_**Is he MIA?**_

_(cut to a scene of the Bomber figure tied up, gagged, and a bag over his head)_

_**Or is he stuck in the can?**_

_(cut to a scene of the Bomber figure sitting on a toilet reading a newspaper)_

_**Where in the world has Bomber gone and when in Holy Hell will there be another blog?**_

_(Camera flickers to a live image of a young man with dark hair tied back in a pony-tail, wearing a life-preserver and driving a jet-ski and grinning maniacally at the camera.)_

_"Hi there! It's me, Slapstick...you know, Jean's best friend/nemesis and occasional karaoke partner; and welcome to a special 'on the run' version of Bomber's Bay, hosted by me! Now, as some of you know, Jean sort of disappeared in San Francisco. I briefly met up with him in...hold on a second..."_

_(He reaches behind his back and pulls out a large pistol, aims it off to the side, fires three times. There is an explosion a couple seconds later and he grins as he returns his attention to the camera. He tosses the gun over his shoulder and it disappears in a yellow flash of light.)_

_"Anyway, as I was saying, I caught up with him in San Francisco where I tried to kill him. Yes, I know...he's my best friend, but c'mon, the Elite bounty was up to six million. And you all know he would do the same if our positions were reversed. I mean, we're Elites, it's to be expected. Besides, if he's going to die, it might as well be at the hands of the best, right?"_

_(There's gunfire and he ducks for a second and then swears, shaking his head)_

_"Sorry about this...hold that thought..."_

_(There is a tiny flash of yellow light and a grenade appears in his hand. He throws the grenade at something and the camera jumps a second later as the jet-ski is tossed around by the shock wave of the explosion. He laughs at the camera and shakes his head again, water flying off his brow.)_

_"Whoo-hoo! That was a big one! Anyway, here's a quick recap: I tried to kill Jean, offed the Utopia team trying to detain him, got waylaid by that annoying German idiot known as Totentanz, turned Bratwurst Boy's kneecaps into hamburger, but was then shot in the back, chest, and finally the head by some guy I don't know. However...I DO have a sketch of the guy that I was able to draw from memory after my brain regenerated some of the gray matter that was splattered from the fucker's bullet as it passed through my skull. And this is where I present said sketch in my segment: 'Stick's Soon-To-Be Dead Guy of the Week'."_

_(Scene cuts to a cheesy little animated sequence showing a silhouette of a guy getting shot, stabbed, and blown up as an equally cheesy song done in the style of a gospel choir number begins to play)_

_"**Dead Guy of the Week, Dead Guy of the Week, Dead Guy of the Week, Dead Guy of the Week"**_

_"**His end is just beginning...because he will be dead...really dead..."**_

_"**Dead Guy of the Week...oh yeah...Dead Guy of the Week...mmhmmm...Dead Guy of the Week...uh-huh...Dead Guy of the Week...so dead...Dead Guy of the Week"**_

_(The cheesy animation sequence ends and the camera cuts back to Slapstick, now sitting at a picnic table and sipping a blended coffee drink. He sees the camera and quickly puts the drink aside)_

_"Oh, sorry...okay, and now...this week's dead guy of the week is...well, I don't know his name, but this is what he looks like."_

_(He holds up a drawing done in Crayola crayon of a what looks like a man with light brown hair...or it could be a chihuahua with hair)_

_"Sorry about the crappy drawing, but I've been a little under the weather since I got shot in the head and all I had to work with was a box of Crayola crayons I ripped off some kid in the cancer ward of the hospital. Anyhow...if you happen to see some sorry bastard who looks just like this guy in the picture, contact me. My number is 1-300-KILL-HIM. Or you can e-mail me at a jacked yahoo account: largo_**44****ya**_hoo.**c**o**m**_. Tell me where you saw this guy, I'll smoke him, and then you get a free t-shirt saying 'I helped smoke a 'Dead Guy of the Week.'"_

_(He pauses for a moment and looks up as the sound of sirens in the distance could be heard)_

_"Well, that ends this edition of Bomber's Bay. Hopefully, Jean will be back, but if he isn't, I'll be here...now...if you'll excuse me..."_

_(He reaches behind his back again and pulls out a heavy assault rifle)_

_"I get to shoot up some law enforcement vehicles...see ya soon!"_

_(Scene fades and cuts back to the cheesy intro showing the Bomber action figure dancing around to stop motion animation)_

_"**Where in the world has Bomber gone and when in Holy Hell will there be another blog...?"**_

-Latest upload of Bomber's Bay via encrypted server.

* * *

_**MacDougal Mortuary & Funeral Home**_

"_**You Stab 'Em, We Slab 'Em"**_

MacDougal Mortuary and Funeral Home had become something of a legend in the eighty years it had been in Metroville. Built back in the 1920s, it had served as front for mob bosses (and used to dispose of their victims' bodies and smuggle booze during prohibition), a brothel, a drug lab, and yes...a funeral home. It had been closed down back in the late 1980s, but was refurbished and restored back to its original purpose. Though the MacDougal family had long since died out, the new owner of the building spared no expense restoring it and updating the facility to code before re-opening it in 1999. However, for some reason or another, the owner kept the original name. Though they never gave a reason, others simply assumed it was for the minor legend and notoriety that came with the building.

So when William Sykes, a lowly employee at the company who worked mostly as a hired grunt and driver for the funeral home, signed for delivery of a single coffin with special instructions to have it ready for a service to take place the next day, it was no surprise. It wasn't unusual for a single "fully equipped" coffin (one that came complete with body) to be sent here for a service. In fact, it made things easier, especially since it was going to be a "closed coffin" service. All he had to do was place it in one of the two small "chapel areas" and just wait…which gave him plenty of time to kick back and take it easy. A couple hours work and then he could hang out at the back of the building and smoke a couple joints he had rolled himself and laced with embalming fluid to get that extra boost to his high.

Yes, life was good for Billy Sykes. Most people may not like his job, but at sixteen dollars an hour and the extra income he got by selling rolled joints laced with embalming fluid that he got for free from work...it more than enough to pay for his rent, buy the latest PS3 games, and get more pot. In fact, he toyed with the idea of starting his own little grow-op with some of the cash he had managed to set aside.

However, Billy was about to experience one of the most fucked up days in his life. And it all started with a phone call.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

"Ah, shit," Billy groaned as he reached into his pocket to answer his cell-phone. He had just finished putting the coffin in place and was looking forward to blissing out on his 'drift-of-the-dead' fix.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, pulling the phone out of his pocket. With his luck, it was probably his supervisor telling him that he had to fucking work late again...it just wasn't fair. "Hello?"

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

It took him a moment, but he realized the phone was still ringing. Then he realized it wasn't his phone that was ringing, but a different phone.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

And it was coming from...

There was a soft groan from the coffin and then a muffled "Hello..."

* * *

Blackness again...soft, always dark, soothing, velvety, and occasionally chocolaty blackness. Unfortunately, blackness was usually preceded by pain, mostly directed to Jean's face repeatedly before he blacked out. He had been to the world of blackness so many times, he sometimes wondered if he had a timeshare plan.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

And the beeping, there was always the damn beeping that seemed to always hang out in the blackness.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

He opened his eyes and...well...blackness was still there, but it was illuminated by a faint blue light coming off his chest. It would appear that blackness was an enclosed padded space that was just big enough to hold him and something sitting on his legs. He could barely move his arms, but was able to reach up and grab the source of blue light from his chest.

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

_What the hell? A Nokia cell phone?_

_**BreepBreepBreepBreep...**_

He groaned as he pushed the green key on the cell-phone. "Hello..."

"Ah, Mr. Renard, you're awake." Jean recognized the voice of the man who bailed him out of the hospital and then knocked him out cold. "So, how's the jaw?"

"It fucking hurts," Jean snapped. "You go through something like this and tell me how it feels."

"No thanks, I'll pass." The voice on the other end paused for a moment. "But now that you're awake, you should get out of there. You will find the item sitting on your legs is an over sized gym bag. Take it with you. You will need the items inside and I will be contacting you shortly."

"Whoa...wait...don't I have a choice in this?"

"No, you do not. Though if you want to stay in that coffin permanently, I'll be more than willing to contact people to make that possible."

"What!" Jean pushed up with his left arm, putting all of his strength (which was about three times that of a normal human) into it. The lid upper lid of the coffin flew off its hinges and Jean propped himself up to look around. "You bastard," he snarled into the phone as he climbed out of the coffin, "you put me in a fucking funeral home!"

A shriek made him turn around and he saw a young man in his mid-twenties with a goatee and bloodshot eyes wearing coveralls standing there, looking at him in shock.

"Hey," Jean said to the man, "I'll be with you in a second, I need to get some answers from this asshole on the phone."

"Is that any way to talk about the man who saved your life?" asked the man on the phone.

"Oh fuck you," Jean snapped, "you didn't save my life...you knocked me out cold...twice...and my jaw still fucking hurts."

"You seem to be under the mistaken delusion that you have control of this situation, Mr. Renard."

"Oh, I'm not mistaken, Mr. 'Dickless Wonder Who Is Afraid To Show Himself', I'm here, you're probably a long way from here hiding somewhere, so I feel very much in control of the situ-AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!"

Jean dropped to his knees as he felt every nerve-ending in his body explode in pain. After a couple seconds the pain subsided and, while gasping for breath, he picked the phone he had dropped when he felt to the floor. "You...bastard," he managed to choke out, "what...what did you do?"

"It's really simple, Mr. Renard," the voice said, "we drilled a hole in your head while you were unconscious at one point and inserted a bio-organic chip into brain. To be specific, we latched on to your MR-Node. Yes, your power will eventually dissolve it and get it out of your system, but it will take years for you to do that. You could try to force it out, but you will be in constant pain, much worse than what we just sent through your body...and even then it will take at least two years. You don't have that kind of time."

"What do you want?" Jean asked.

"Ah, so now you've decided to cooperate," the voice chuckled, "or you're pretending to cooperate while trying to figure a way out of your situation. It's very simple, Mr. Renard, I want you to remain in the town you are in. You will find a data packet in the bag along with something else."

Curious Jean pulled the over sized gym bag out of the coffin, opened it and found a folder, another cell-phone (but much nicer and more expensive), and cash...lots of cash. "Holy shit, there's got to be at least a million in here," he said as some of the cash bundles fell to the ground."

"Consider that as part of your payment, Mr. Renard. You will be paid a monthly retainer substantially less than that, but it will allow you to live well enough in Metroville. The million is for you to acquire the gear you need and to cover various 'expenses' on the job."

"Whoa, hold on...I didn't say I would do this job."

"Do you really want me to push the button until your body is burned to a crisp and your regenerating husk then delivered to Totentanz?"

"Okay...you got a point there," Jean conceded, "so what do you want me to do again?"

"Just follow the instructions in the file I gave you, Mr. Renard. As I said, I will be in contact shortly. However, you must first deal with your more immediate problem."

"Problem?" Jean asked. "What problem?"

**CLICK**

Jean didn't bother to turn and look. He could tell from the sound that the idiot with the bloodshot eyes and goatee had pulled out a gun. "Aw, crap," he grumbled.

"That problem," the voice responded. "I'll hang up now and let you deal with the gun pointed at your head." Then the line went dead on the other end.

Jean signed and put the phone the pocket of his jeans before turning to face the pistol the other man leveled at his head. "You know," he said casually, "you ever had one of those days where things are just so fucked up that you don't even know where to begin when dealing with it?"

* * *

Billy Sykes had seen some weird crap during his time as an employee at MacDougal, but this was the first time a "corpse" had busted out of the coffin and had a bag full of money. Under normal circumstances, Billy would have simply freaked out, then start lighting up early. However, the bag of money the "corpse" had made it an "abnormal" circumstance and Billy suddenly got a brainstorm. Instead of wondering what the hell was going on and why there was a "not dead" guy climbing out of a coffin and talking on a cell-phone, he focused on the money falling out of the over sized gym bag…and the fact that it would go a long way towards upgrading his tiny grow-op.

And so, Billy decided to do something he had never done before; to seize an opportunity that just presented it self. So Billy reached in and pulled out a .45 automatic pistol he had gotten from a customer on a 'trade-in deal' and pointed it at the stranger who had just finished talking on the cell-phone.

"You know," the man began, "you ever had one of those days where things are just so fucked up that you don't even know where to begin when dealing with it?"

Billy couldn't believe it. He had a gun leveled at this man's head and the guy acted like he didn't care. What the hell was this guy's malfunction? Couldn't he tell that Billy had a gun pointed at him?

"So, this is about the money, isn't it?" the man asked.

Billy blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the casual way the man asked the question. "Huh?" he said.

"That's it?" The man seemed a little disappointed. "You're standing there, holding me at gunpoint, and all you say is 'Huh'?"

That brought Billy out of his momentary paralysis and it did piss him off a little. "Give me the damn money!" he snarled.

"Ah, there ya go," the man said. "Anger and a full sentence threat…much better."

"Are you insane?"

"I don't know…are you high?"

"Hey, I haven't lit up for a couple hours…wait a second! That's none of your damn business!"

"Whoa," the man said as he dropped the bag to the ground and held his hands up, "relax, no need to get jumpy."

"Just don't move and give me the money," Billy demanded.

"Um, yeah…if I can't move, how can I give you the money?"

"Do you want me to shoot you?"

"Not particularly, but it is a valid question."

"Just kick the bag over to me."

The man paused for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Okay, no problem." He did as he was ordered and kicked the bag…up in the air and into Billy's face. Billy managed to get a wild shot off before he stumbled backwards from the bag's impact. Then he felt a solid kick to his stomach which knocked the air out of him and forced him to drop the gun. He lost his balance and fell backwards on the floor, knocking aside a couple of the folding chairs that were set up in the room. Once he recovered from the kick to the stomach, Billy realized he was lying on the ground, the other man was standing over him pointing Billy's own gun at him.

"You're not very bright, are you?" the man asked. "Pulling a gun on me, ME, of all people? Don't you know who I am?"

Billy blinked a couple times before he answered. For some reason the man did look familiar, but he couldn't place the face. "Um…no," he said.

"Jean-Paul Renard," the man said, sounding a little exasperated at Billy's response. "You know, Bomber's Bay?"

Billy's eyes widened as he recognized the crazy nova Elite and adrenaline junkie from the video blogs and smiled. "Oh yeah! Bomber!"

"Oh yeah, Bomber," Jean mimicked sarcastically.

"Didn't you get your ass handed to you a couple weeks ago by some teeny-bopper?" Suddenly, a cold gleam appeared in Bomber's eyes, telling Billy that he said the wrong thing. Billy almost wet his pants as he began to panic. "Please don't kill me," he pleaded.

Bomber looked at him for a moment, studying him. "You didn't wet your pants, did you?" he asked.

"No," Billy replied, suddenly pissed off at that question.

"Good."

The last thing Billy Sykes saw was Bomber's fist slamming into his face.

* * *

Jean tossed the pistol aside and then proceeded to strip the man out of his coveralls. He couldn't help chuckling at the fact that, for once, he wasn't the one knocked out cold.

Ten minutes later, he was driving the MacDougal van and headed down the highway. He pulled a map out of the bag and got an address of where he was to go. He knew he would have to ditch the van a couple miles away from the destination, but that wasn't a problem. The problem was what he learned from skimming the contents in the file folder. He wasn't sure how he was going to accomplish the objective, it wasn't his style.

How in the world did his mysterious and unknown employer expect him to protect David Flynn?

* * *

"_Police are still baffled by a bizarre case of assault at the notorious MacDougal Mortuary and Funeral Home where an employee was found stripped of his clothes, hogtied with a one hundred dollar bill shoved in his mouth while another was shoved up his rectum...wait, did I just read that right?"_

-Evening News, KMET Television. Metroville, California.


	9. Meanwhile III

Disclaimer: As usual, don't own Incredibles or Aberrant. Disney/Pixar owns the former, White Wolf owns the latter. And I'm quite sure Brad Bird and crew would order me burned at the stake if they ever read this (but thankfully they have real jobs and don't have time to waste on this crap). White Wolf...they pretty much abandoned the Aberrant line, so I think I'm safe...unless they sent a pack of angry Garou over here to deal with me. :-D

Author's Notes: Okay, I'm breaking this segment into two parts. It was originally 10000 words, so I decided to break it in half. Not much action here, but trust me, something's coming up soon and this helps set up for it. So what's going to happen in this particular chapter. Well, Zoe and Ashley head off to Edna's and Jack gets busted by his school principal for selling "illegal substances" at school.

As usual, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has stuck around. And, as usual, if you feel like leaving a review, I won't complain too much. If not...no complaint that way either.

* * *

_**Pacifica Cove**_

_**North of Metroville, California**_

The next day, Ashley Winthrop, formerly known as the nova XWF wrestler "Boom Box" and now proprietor of The Silicon Café, thought about the strange twists and turns her life had taken over the last four years as her pick-up truck pulled up to the iron gates that sealed off a private road that led up the hillside to a large mansion overlooking the nearby bay. If someone had told her four years ago that she would erupt as a nova, join the XWF, and end up starting her own business with the aid of some mega-intelligent kid four years younger than her, she would have laughed in their faces and asked what they were tripping on. Of course, she was nineteen at the time, working at some store at the mall, not really thinking about her future because she was just out of high school and figured she was pretty enough to get by working the retail sector until she found her way…so long as she didn't end up working for her parents' business.

She loved her parents, but she didn't see herself working the family owned bakery and café. She had enough of that growing up, and she didn't want anything to do with that. She figured with her looks, she could go far and really didn't push herself much through high school. Even after she graduated, she figured she'd get a modeling job which she did get but it was never the "big break" she was looking for. Between the occasional photo shoot and her regular job, she barely made ends meet, but she knew this set up couldn't last forever and that, eventually, things were going to get worse.

Then she erupted as a nova and everything changed. Suddenly, everyone wanted a piece of her. Then again, she went from being a "cute" strawberry blonde to a "hot" bombshell who could outrun bullets, withstand being shot with tank shells, and throw semi-trucks across the city skyline. She was in demand, she was popular, and she was signed on with the XWF within a month after erupting. As the nova wrestler known as "Boom Box", she was popular with the fans particularly the male fans and she had several product endorsement contracts. It appeared that her big break had come and she had it all.

Except it was the worst time of her life.

Oh, it was great for the first six months or so, until she realized that she had signed her life away to an unscrupulous company that trapped her in an iron-clad contract that took a majority of her profits and stuck her with a manager who seemed to be living a little too well for the commission he was making for just being her PR and contract rep. She still made money, which she sent most of to her family, but she couldn't help feeling that something was wrong. Eventually, she started to fall into a state of depression and, at one point her manager had to give her a pep talk just to talk her into putting on her skimpy costume and do the show.

Things finally reached a breaking point when one of her fellow wrestlers taunted her in the ring about being a "dumb cash cow with no clue". Something in her snapped and she went "off script" as they say in the business. She proceeded to beat her opponent to a bloody pulp and actually threw him through the roof of the arena. They found "Bonecracker" Williams a mile away where he had landed in the middle of a used car dealership, out cold and buried in the wreckage of minivan he had smashed into on impact.

Oddly enough, the incident didn't get her fired, despite the property damages. In fact, it boosted the XWF's cable and 'net ratings and increased her popularity, bringing in more profit and merchandise agreements…to her employer and agent, but not to her. A week after the "Bonecracker Incident", she found herself signing autographs and doing PR with some fans before a show in Los Angeles when she met David Flynn for the first time. It turned out that the owner of the XWF was trying to woo David into investing some of his money in the company. She had heard of David Flynn, the eighteen year old nova mega-genius and illegitimate son of the infamous Buddy Pine former CEO of Pine Industries. She was expecting to see a "geeky fan boy", but found herself meeting a young man well dressed man in casual clothes (though a little on the expensive side). He wasn't what she expected, but it was the conversation they had that threw her for a loop.

"Wish I could say I was a fan, Ms. Winthrop," he had told her before smiling and then lowering his voice, "but I really don't watch this crap."

"Then why are you here?" she asked.

David Flynn smiled at her as he reached into his jacket to pull out a piece of paper. "Well, it's currently a profitable business, and I have money to invest." He handed her the paper which she was about to autograph.

She stopped herself from signing the paper when she realized that it wasn't just a piece of paper, but a take-out menu from her parents' business. She looked at him, a wary look in her eyes. "What's this?"

David winked at her. "Oh, it's just a take-out menu to this really cool place I know just south of Metroville," he said. "Best damn almond rolls in the world."

She could tell from the sound in his voice he was being sincere. "No argument there," she said, "but why give this to me?"

"Let's just say your parents are cool people and I told them I'd check up on you."

"Why?" she asked, her suspicion of him starting to grow.

"No reason to be paranoid, Ms. Winthrop," Flynn assured her. "But given what I know about you, I don't blame you."

"What do you know about me?"

"How badly you've been screwed over these last couple years." There was a hint of sadness in his voice, but she also saw a mischievous gleam in his eye as he spoke again. "But don't worry," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Things are going to change."

"Why," she snapped, though it was more out of instinct than actual hostility, "you planning on investing in the company?"

Flynn's grin got bigger. "Not exactly," he replied, "but I think you'll enjoy tonight's show." He then walked away, but there was something in his chuckle that unnerved her a little. That was her first clue something was going to happen that night. The other clue was her manager Reggie scrambling in her direction while talking on his cell-phone.

"What do you mean I don't have access to the account?" Reggie snarled into the phone. "I'm the primary account holder!"

"Something wrong, Reggie?" she asked, curious at the fact that her normally cool and collected weasel of a manager looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

He held up a finger, a silent way of telling her to be quiet. "Well, then," he said, "can you tell me WHO the primary holder of this account is?" He paused as he listened for the answer and then his already pale face went to an even more ghastly white. "I see," he finally said. "Well, I guess I'll have to arrange a meeting to settle this all out." He closed the phone and then glared at Ashley for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"Is there something wrong, Reggie?" Ashley asked again. She tried to keep her amusement out of her voice, but it was hard to do.

"No, no, everything's fine," Reggie said, though it was obvious he was lying through his teeth. "I'm just having some problems with my bank account, that's all."

During the show that night, Ashley noticed a bunch of activity backstage. She saw Reggie, her manager, and the owner of the XWF Eric Bischoff having an argument about 'something going down'. Bischoff, his sycophantic lawyer Martin Reed (who Ashley hated more than her employer), and Reggie were worried. Curiosity got the better of Ashley and she asked them what was going on?

"None of your concern," Bischoff had told her, "just do your job tonight and try to bring us more ratings."

Meanwhile, Reggie was freaking about how his cell-service suddenly died. He used another person's cell to call and was shocked to find out that he wasn't even registered with his carrier.

Then it was time for her match with "Bonecracker" Wilson. She actually was sorry for knocking him out cold, but his reaction to her apology a week ago was met with a chuckle and a pat on her shoulder. "Kid," he told her, "I may have been out of line, but you went all out and proved you got what it takes for this line of work. Anyone who can hit that hard, has my respect….besides, your stunt made us main event material."

During that week, she and Wilson practiced for their match, talked about possible changes and ideas to make it interesting. It was decided that he was going to win this match and they would have a couple no-decision matches the next week before leading up to the next pay-per-view event.

But a few minutes before her match, Wilson pulled her aside. "There's been a change of plans," he said, looking around to make sure there was no one around within earshot."

"What's going on?"

"We'll still be fighting, but it's going to get pre-empted."

"What? We put some good stuff in this…I'm actually looking forward to it."

"I know kid, but trust me…this is going to be big." He pulled her aside so a couple members of the technical staff could get by. "From what I understand, there's going to be some changes."

She wanted to ask what it was, but he turned and walked away, heading towards the curtain that led to the runway as his theme music began to play.

Several minutes later, she and Wilson were slugging it out in an electrified cell match when the power suddenly flickered and the lights went dead for a moment. At first, she thought it was some new angle or storyline the higher-ups were throwing in, but she felt Wilson's grip on her arm loosen and heard him whisper, "Be ready for it".

The next two hours after that shocked the industry to its core. While fans thought it was all part of a storyline at the time, it turned out being a scandal that rocked the XWF to its core as certain business practices by the XWF ownership and managers were exposed. By the time it was over, the new owner of the XWF, one Paul Heyman had REAL police officers escorting XWF's Bischoff and a few of his business partners outside the arena where they were met by a team of lawyers serving them with several subpoenas.

Ashley found Reggie backstage snarling at David Flynn.

"You did this!" Reggie yelled, pointing his finger accusingly at Flynn. "Damn aberrant freak, you set us up!"

"Careful, Reggie," Flynn said, his calm and icy tone actually making the older man flinch a little, "remember that you're in a business surrounded by us 'aberrant freaks'. Just be thankful that you're not being carted away like your boss and his cronies."

"They have nothing on me," Reggie sneered, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. "All my deals were legit and by the book."

"Yeah, and you made damn sure that Ashley was in the dark about those deals. You took seventy-five percent of her earnings for yourself."

"Yeah, well, the bitch is dumber than a box of rocks; she wouldn't know what do with all that money anyway."

Ashley was about to storm around the corner and throw the weasel through a wall, but stopped when she heard Flynn say, "Well, since she now owns that account you were stashing all that money in, we'll see if that's true."

"Wh-what?" Reggie stammered.

"You heard me," Flynn said. "And in case you haven't noticed, your cell-phone account was cancelled. Actually, I take that back…it wasn't cancelled, it was just deleted…just like your social security number and anything that was registered to you." Ashley actually shuddered at the sound of Flynn's soft cruel chuckle. "In other words, Reggie, you don't exist as far as the world's concerned. You are, what George Orwell once wrote, an 'un-person'."

Reggie lunged at the kid, but Ashley had kicked in her super-speed and, a split second later, was holding Reggie's fist in her hand and tightening her grip, causing Reggie to cry out in pain.

"You bastard," she said, continuing to tighten her grip, "you screwed me over and used me!"

Reggie screamed in pain again and Ashley was certain that all she had to do was apply just a little more pressure and she would break his fingers in multiple locations. She was very tempted to, and would have when she heard someone say, "Don't do it, he's not worth it." She turned and saw David Flynn shaking his head. "He's got nothing, Ms. Winthrop. That's his problem; don't give him a way out of it."

She released her grip on Reggie's fist and shoved him aside, sending him sprawling to the ground. "Get lost," she said, "and if I see you again, I'll see how far and how hard I can throw you."

She watched Reggie run off and then turned to look at Flynn who was smirking and shaking his head.

"So what happens now?" She asked. "Does this mean you're my agent now…or my boss?"

Flynn shook his head and smiled at her. "None of the above, Ms. Winthrop," he replied. "I only came here because your family was worried about you and…well…they always gave me an extra free almond roll now and then…so I kind of owed them." He then paused for a moment as he contemplated something. "I wonder if this means they'll un-ban Zoe." He shook his head and grinned. "Never mind," he said, "it's not important, but what is important is that you might want to talk to Mr. Heyman since he is your new boss. He's going to be renegotiating all his new employees' contracts."

She didn't know who Zoe was at the time and she didn't care, but that didn't stop her from hugging the young man. "Thank you," she said.

"Ach," Flynn choked out, "Ms…Winthrop…oxygen…becoming…an issue."

"Oh, sorry," she giggled as she released her hold on him.

"No problem," the young man laughed, "I didn't need those ribs anyway."

* * *

Ashley smiled at that memory. That was about four months ago. In those four months, she was released from her contract obligation to the XWF and, oddly enough, went back to working at her family's café. A couple months after that, David approached her (and her family) with a business proposition which they agreed to and she ended up running the Silicon Café in the SST building. Looking at the last four years, it all seemed to happen in a blur that she could barely keep up with it. Her life did indeed take a strange path.

A path that led to her currently sitting in her pick-up truck which was now idling outside the iron gates guarding a private road.

"State your business," she heard a voice say which brought her back to the present. She blinked a moment and realized she was looking at a small video screen on a post outside the gates. A stern faced guard glared at her from the screen.

"Um," Ashley started to say, but she was cut off by Zoe who leaned over her so the guard could see her.

"Just tell Edna that Zoe's here, okay?"

The guard grunted and the screen went blank. A moment later, it flickered back on and Ashley saw two eyes magnified by a pair of large circular lenses. "Little Zoe Kilmarten?" asked a voice in a strange European accent. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Edna, it's me," Zoe sighed as she waved at the screen. "But I'm not so little anymore."

"Nonsense, dahling! You will always be Little Zoe to me." There was a buzzing sound and the gate slid open. "Have your friend drive up to the front door, I will meet you there."

The screen went black and Zoe shook her head. "I hate that name," she grumbled.

Ashley laughed as she drove her truck up the private road. "That's okay, Little Zoe," she said, "your secret is safe with me."

* * *

Metroville Elementary School

Metroville, California

Bob sighed and shook his head as he walked through the front door of his youngest son's elementary school and made his way to the office. He was surprised that they called him at work instead of contacting Helen at home, until they informed him of the seriousness of the charge. According to Bernard Kropp, the principal of the school, Jack was dealing in "illegal substances" and that there would be "serious consequences from this delinquent's actions". Bob couldn't believe it when he heard that. His youngest son, Jack, was dealing "illegal substances"? He knew the state of California had problems with drugs in schools, but he never thought his own kids would be involved with stuff like that. He was tempted to call Helen, but held off on it. Normally, he would have contacted her, but after the events of the last few weeks and her revealing a family secret, it was obvious that she was under a lot of stress.

Of course, it didn't help that the world had decided to go to hell in a hand basket a few days ago when Mexico City got attacked by "persons unknown". He remembered watching the newscasts with various reporters were claiming the Teragen was behind it and then looking at his wife who had tears in her eyes and saying, "Dad, what have you done?"

Bob always thought of his wife as a strong woman, physically and emotionally, but he could tell that steely resolve had taken some hits recently. After Helen's revelation about who her father was, there was a sense of uneasiness in the family. Violet had spent more time at the university campus or at SST (which Bob still didn't approve of, but his daughter was an adult now and could make her own decisions) and Dash had barely said more than a few sentences at mealtimes before either going up to his room or leaving to go hang out with his friends.

There was an incident right before the Mexico City attack that made Bob wonder what his oldest son was up to. Dash had been out late that night and, when he came back, he had purpling bruise on the right side of his face and blood on his hands. He claimed he had gotten in a fight with one of his friends, but they settled it and it was no big deal. Bob suspected there was more to it, but decided it wasn't best to push it.

And then there was Jack. Bob wasn't sure what to think of his youngest son. Oh sure, he loved the boy very much, but he just couldn't figure out how Jack turned out to be the way he did. Bob wondered if it was because Jack didn't live in quite as restricted environment as his older siblings had when they were his age and were told to not use their powers. Because the ban was lifted on supers (and destruction of the Galatea Space station that triggered the eruption of new super-beings world-wide) Jack didn't have the pressure of trying to "live under the radar". Yes, Bob and Helen did tell the boy to be careful about using his powers and not to reveal them in public, but they didn't push on him as hard as they did on Violet and Dash.

And yet, unlike Violet and Dash before him, Jack seemed content to just be a kid and be as normal as possible. Oh sure, there were times he did use his powers (especially on the very rare time he'd go with the family on a mission), but he didn't really seem interested in doing what he called "the hero thing". In fact, he seemed more interested in hanging out with his friends, playing basketball, or just staying home and playing the latest ESPN sports game for his PS3. He didn't play regular sports at his school, but he did play pick-up games of basketball and football with his friends. In fact, it struck Bob as kind of odd that Jack, probably one of the most powerful beings on the face of the planet, was happy just goofing off with his normal friends and living a relatively normal life. Granted, there had been the occasional incident (like Jack's disastrous attempt to run a lemonade stand at age five), but other than that, Jack was mostly 'normal'.

_At least that's what we thought,_ Bob thought to himself as he approached the desk in the outer office. "I'm Bob Parr," he said to the secretary behind the desk. "I'm here to see Principal Kropp about my son."

"Ah, Mr. Parr," the woman said as she gestured at him to take a seat in one of the empty chairs next to the door of the Principal's office. "Mr. Kropp's been waiting for you. I'll call him and let you know you're here."

As Bob took a seat, he noticed several unopened bags of candy and a few 12-packs of soda stacked in a neat pile on the floor. "Wow," he said, trying to strike up a conversation, "is there some sort of party going on?"

The lady frowned at him, a stern look on her face. "Oh, good heavens no," she said. "That is contraband taken from the students. Candies, sodas, and junk food were banned at the beginning of the school year." She then gave Bob a sinister grin. "And we have now caught one of the main people responsible for this."

Bob had an idea where this was headed. "Hold on," he said, "you're saying my son had all this stuff?"

"Yes, we found him selling these…illicit items out of his locker. You need to clamp down on that boy."

It was probably the first time that Bob felt anger and relief at the same moment. Anger at the fact some stranger was berating him on how to raise his kid, but relief that Jack wasn't selling drugs. He managed to hold back the comment he wanted to fire back at her and nodded as he leaned back in the chair. However, he didn't suppress the smile on his face which he quickly hid as the secretary shot another disapproving look in his direction.

* * *

Jack Parr sat in the chair in front of the principal's desk and watched as his principal glared at him from behind his desk, drumming his fingers on the wooden desktop. He assumed Mr. Kropp was trying to frighten him, but all it really accomplished was make Jack wonder why Mr. Kropp was actually part toad or if the oversized square-framed glasses and bald head only made him look that way.

"Well," Mr. Kropp rumbled imperiously.

"Well what?" Jack asked. Seriously, what did Kropp want him to say?

"Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"Um…not really?"

Principal Kropp slapped his hands down on his desk and leaned forward. "Of course you've got nothing to say, you little delinquent hoodlum," he snapped, "we caught you red handed!"

"And how many kids did you bully before one of them coughed up my name?"

"That's not important, Parr." Bernie gave the child an evil grin and gleefully rubbed his hands together. "Oh…how I waited for this moment. Your brother made a fool out of me when he was here, but you…you won't get that chance, not with me as Principal!"

"Wow, you were here when my brother was here? That was like…um…many, many, many years ago…you must be what, a hundred, and you're sill here at this school?"

Principal Kropp slammed his fists on his desk and jumped out of his chair. "Oh, you think you're a clever little boy, don't you, Parr?" he asked.

"Um…kind of."

"Well, so am I!"

Jack blinked a couple times at that comment. "Okay," he said, "did I hear that right? You think you're a clever little boy?" He let out a low whistle, pulled a small pocket notebook and pen out of his jacket, and started to write something.

"What are you doing, boy?"

"I'm writing down a number for a shrink my mom makes me visit twice a month. I think you need the help more than I do."

"You think this is funny?" Kropp snarled.

Jack tore the small piece of paper out of the tiny notebook and put it on the desk. He managed to not laugh and hide his amusement behind a serious look. "Actually, I'm worried about you, Principal Kropp. And while I'm no expert, I would strongly suggest that you might want to make some changes; there are plenty of decaffeinated brands out there now that look, smell, and taste like the real thing."

"You little shit-," Kropp started to say when his phone went off. "WHAT!" he screamed.

"Mr. Kropp," the secretary said, startled from her boss' voice. "Mr. Parr is here to see you."

Kropp suddenly sat down in chair, put on a jovial smile, and then said softly, "Oh, please, Miss Emerson, send him in."

"Wow," Jack muttered, "definite mood swings."

"Shut it, you little prick," Kropp said as he pushed the button to unlock his office door to allow the boy's father in. "Ah, Mr. Parr," he said as he the large man entered the room. "Thank you for coming on such short notice. I'm afraid we have some serious things to discuss."

* * *

An hour later, Bob was driving home while Jack quietly sat in the passenger side. He really didn't know what to say to his son. In his own opinion, Jack really didn't do anything wrong. He wasn't selling drugs or anything truly illegal, just candy, soda, and junk food. However, it was a school regulation that was violated and Principal Kropp was within his rights to take the actions he did (even though Bob really felt like taking the little toad-like human outside and seeing if he could throw the man over a couple state lines). After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, Bob finally cleared his throat before he spoke. "So, son," he said, "what really happened?"

Jack shrugged. For some reason, he didn't seem bothered by what just happened. In fact, he seemed rather cheerful. "Like Principal Kropp said; I was selling some goodies out of my locker, I got caught, and they confiscated everything from my locker because someone ratted me out, end of story."

"What you did was technically wrong though."

"Oh please, Bernie made up that rule the third day of school because he's trying to suck up to the school superintendent and push for the principal position over at the new middle school being built."

"That's Principal Kropp to you," Bob mildly scolded his son, "and how do you know this?"

"The way I know a lot of things in school, Dad," Jack replied, giving his father a tiny grin. "I have friends in low places."

"Yeah? Well, one of your friends probably sold you out."

Jack nodded, but his grin got even bigger. "Yep, they did." Then his cell-phone went off. He pulled it out of his coat, laughing as he read the caller ID. "And that would be the culprit now," he said as he turned the speaker part of the phone on. "Hey Tim, how's it going?"

"Not bad," a young boy replied from the other end of the line. "You were right, Jack. Putting some of the stash in your locker worked. Kropp stopped searching lockers after you left."

Bob caught himself doing a double-take when he glanced at his son and then hit the brakes suddenly to avoid hitting the car in front of him.

"Whoa, Dad," Jack chuckled, "eyes on the road."

"You okay, Jack?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, just some bad traffic, nothing to worry about."

"That's not what I meant. How badly did Kropp come down on you?"

"I got suspended tomorrow and I have a week's after school detention."

"Ouch. Are you sure this was the way to go?"

"Tim, we knew the locker search was coming, so someone had to take the fall. It's better to take a hit now, lie low for a couple weeks and use that time to move 'Tom', 'Dick', and 'Harry' to new locations. We might want to change locations every couple weeks as well after that."

"Okay, will do. What about the supply runs?"

"I'll still handle those. You just keep the money flowing and I'll get them to you."

"Alright, see you when you get back."

"See ya, Tim." Jack killed the connection and put his phone back in his pocket before turning to look up at his confused father. "What?"

It took Bob a moment to say something. He was still in shock from the phone call he just overheard. "Tom, Dick, and Harry?" he managed to ask.

"Yeah," Jack smirked, "got the idea from a really old movie. Those are the names of the three locations we actually sell stuff out of. What, do you really think I'm stupid enough to sell things right out of my locker?"

"Apparently not," Bob replied, failing to hide the hint of pride in his voice. "But you did get caught though."

Jack shook his head. "Oh please," he grumbled, "Bernie's had it in for me since I started there in first grade. Apparently, Dash pulled some crap with him back when he went to this school and now I have to deal with it."

Bob frowned as he remembered those times Jack was referring to and he had to admit that Jack had a point. Back when he was just a teacher, Mr. Kropp was a favorite target for Dash and his pranks. At one point, it almost backfired because Kropp claimed to have caught it on video. Thankfully, Dash moved faster than the camera could pick up. However, that didn't keep Kropp from blaming Dash for everything. Bob never considered the possibility that Kropp would take his anger out on Jack when Dash moved on. "Oh," he finally said, "I'm sorry, I didn't think about that."

Jack shrugged and leaned back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. "No big deal," he said. "I take the blame, endure some punishment for a few weeks, things fizzle out, and we resume business as usual."

Despite himself, Bob smiled. "My son," he chuckled, "the criminal master mind of his elementary school? How did you become so smart?"

"By getting my education where most kids get it," Jack yawned, "the television."

"Hey, that wasn't nice," Bob said.

"Maybe, but it's kind of true. Besides, there actually are some cool things on television. You ever watch 'Original Gangster' week on the History Channel? Really cool stuff. They talk about prohibition and the outlaw bootleggers who defied it." Jack turned and smiled at his father. "Well, the state of California has declared prohibition on the school system and kids like me…we're the bootleggers. We're the outlaw heroes."

"I'm curious now. When you were talking to Tim, you said you making supply runs?"

"Yep, they give me money, I throw in some of my own, I 'port on over to Wal-Mart, go in and do some shopping, pay for the stuff with the money, 'port back to a safe location, and then we restock 'Tom', 'Dick', and 'Harry'."

"Wait you're using your powers?"

"Yeah, but not in public and I make sure no one sees me when I 'port."

"I don't want to sound too much like your mother, but don't you think that's wrong?" Bob asked.

Jack's smile faded as he looked back at his father. "What, you think I should go out and try for sports like Big Bro?"

Bob winced at that. "Okay," he conceded, "you got a point. And I'll be honest with you, I really don't find what you did wrong, but…you did get suspended from school and that does warrant a punishment."

Jack sighed and his eyes fell to the floor. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"I'm sorry, Jack, but in order to make this stick, I have to." Bob took a deep breath and slowly let it out as he pulled the car into the driveway before turned to reface his son. "So, here it is: no PS3 for a week."

"What?" Jack gulped. "That's a little overkill, don't you think? I mean, you even said that you didn't think what I did was wrong?"

"That's my personal opinion, but it was against school regulations."

"But a week?"

This time it was Bob's turn to smile again. "Well, there is an alternative."

"What might that be?" Jack asked, suddenly hopeful he might strike a deal.

"I could let your mother handle the punishment side."

Jack's mouth dropped open in shock. "Y-you wouldn't," he finally managed to say.

"Oh yeah," Bob laughed. "And believe me, you're getting off easy."

Jack thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Yeah, you're right…but it still sucks." He then got out of the car and skulked his way into the house.

Bob laughed again and shook his head. Admittedly, the situation wasn't as bad as it could have been. Oh sure, there would be a discussion with Helen, but he was certain she would agree with the punishment and not add onto it. He was still chuckling when another car pulled into the driveway that he recognized as Violet's purple Volkswagen Beetle.

"Hey, Vi," he said as his daughter got out of the car. "What's up?"

Unfortunately, the serious look on Violet's face was enough to give Bob some concern. "Dad," she said, "I think we might have a problem."


	10. Meanwhile IV

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Disney/Pixar does. Don't Aberrant, White Wolf still does (and seems content to abandon it). "Psycho Killer" written and performed by The Talking Heads.

Author's Notes: Just so you know, the events of this segment take place before Violet meets up with her father and Jack outside the Parr home. And all these segments take place before Buddy's speech from chapter three of "Countdown: One".

As usual...thanks to the usual suspects. There is one more segment to this arc coming...and then it's going to hit the fan.

* * *

"_What I don't get is why won't Utopia just grab little punk. Mexico is a sovereign nation and Flynn is not protected by whatever secret government agency is shielding him here at home. And with him gone, why don't they don't they go after that little clubhouse that his glee club of the damned calls home. Everyone knows that most of the tech coming out of SST will be in clear violation of the UN sanctioned Sci-Tech protocols. That's more than enough reason for them to storm the facility and take every last one of those traitors in."_

_-Brandi Miller, Air America Radio_

_

* * *

_

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Violet frowned as she entered the lobby of SST and saw that the Silicon café was closed. Yes, there were people sitting at the tables, but the actual business run by Ashley was closed with a note on the counter. However, there was an industrial sized coffee maker, a coffee grinder, and several bags of roasted coffee beans as well as what appeared to be a couple hundred squares of homemade rice-crispy treats stacked up to make small tower.

"What's this?" she asked Shiro Murakami who was sitting at one of the tables, a large cup of coffee in one of his hands while he tapped away on his laptop.

"Mmrhff," Shiro mumbled with a mouthful of rice-crispy treat. He held up his finger, signaling her to hold on for a moment as he swallowed his food and then washed it down with a gulp of coffee. "Sorry, Vi…what's what?"

"This," she said, gesturing to the closed café.

"Ah, Ashley took the day off. Roasted up a bunch of beans, made a bunch of goodies for us to munch on this morning, and left a note saying it was on the house." Shiro took another sip of coffee and shrugged. "David's got most of us doing some tracking and logistics work for the relief effort to Mexico City."

"What about the new-hires?"

"Let's see," Shiro said as he tapped a couple keys that brought up a small window. "Blevins took off this morning with the prep team headed for BS2 in Arizona. Graves is in LA with a promotions crew for next week's Techno-Con presentation, and Peters and Best are down in Mexico City with David."

"He took Damon down there with him?"

"Yeah, and he also had Damon contact his former employer to arrange additional transport and salvage equipment."

"Really, and why wasn't I told about this?"

"Hey, he sent out a memo, didn't you get one? Aren't you the VP or something?"

"Yeah," Violet half-growled. She walked over to one of the four "public terminals" in the cafe and logged in to check her e-mail. "It says I got nothing."

"Really?" Shiro leaped out of his chair, flipping backwards and twisting in the air before landing next to her terminal, folding his wings around his body like a cloak. "Let me take a look at this," he said as he tapped away on Violet's keyboard and brought up a couple windows. "Hmmm...that's odd," he muttered.

"What is it?"

"Well, it looks like someone played around with the main server, preventing not just getting e-mail to your account here but also keeping it from being forwarded to your phone or private e-mail addy."

"You're saying someone hacked my account?"

Shiro cringed a little at the icy tone in Violet's voice. "Well, not exactly...the only people who really could do that would need some higher access. Access I don't officially have. You weren't hacked, Vi. Someone deliberately logged in and used their access to cut you off."

"Zoe." It might have been a soft growl, but it did cause Shiro to shudder, especially when Violet turned to face him. "Where is that little neon monster?"

Shiro actually took a couple steps back from the SST VP. "Um...well...it's like this," he said as sweat started to bead up on his forehead. He then looked at his watch. "Oh crap, look at the time! I need to run a logistics check." He started to scamper back to the table where his lap-top was located, but yelped in pain when he collided with a force-field that then surrounded him in a bubble and brought him floating back to Violet.

"Shiro," Violet said softly, "you wouldn't happen to know where Zoe is, do you?"

"Oh c'mon, Vi...you know I don't want to anger the pink-haired one, she's insane!"

Violet shook her head. "Shiro, Shiro, Shiro...I know I'm the 'nice and level-headed one' around here, but that little neon brat has overstepped her bounds with me. If you know where she is, please tell me. Otherwise, I will relieve my frustration by playing an impromptu game of pinball and bounce you around the facility. "

Shiro didn't like the way Violet's voice sounded. It reminded him too much of a female version of Agent Smith from the matrix. "Hey, okay...it's no big deal. She's just hanging out with Ashley for the day. She said something about shopping for clothes from some fashion designer named Mode."

"Mode," Violet repeated, her eyes narrowing. "Edna Mode?"

"Yeah, that's the- waaaaaaaugh!" Shiro managed to roll with the impact as the force bubble was flung back towards his table before dissipating. He landed in an undignified heap and pulled himself up off the ground. "Aw man," he groaned, "I should have taken the transfer to Arizona." Violet stalked out of the cafe and headed towards the elevator, leaving several people wondering what was going on. Shiro grumbled as he got back into his own seat. Dealing with an upset Zoe was one thing, but an angry Violet Parr...that was something he didn't want to deal with. "Starting to feel like a pinata around here, dammit."

"Yo, Shiro," someone called out from the other end of the cafe. "Did you check your e-mail yet?"

"Didn't get a chance, Ricky. Been kind of busy working the logistics for the Mexico relief group."

"Well, you might want to read Zoe's e-mail."

"Oh yeah...you mean the 'Why Emo-Girl is annoying' letter? Didn't get the chance." Shiro shook his head. He understood that Zoe was still a teenager, but her barely veiled hatred towards Violet was kind of a mystery to him. Despite her recent outburst, Violet Parr was actually a nice and likable person...for a VP. "It's really no that important," he said, "and she really needs to grow up and leave Vi alone."

"Agreed," Ricky said, "but I think she might have good reason. Read the letter and watch the attached video."

Shiro sighed, shaking his head again. "Okay, fine," he said as he brought up his e-mail and read Zoe's latest "I hate Violet Parr and here's why" rant. It was pretty much the same old vitriol and anger, though Shiro had to admit Zoe had a way with words and insults. Then he saw the video and his blood ran cold. He recognized the blond haired speedster beating the shit out of David. He had seen the punk a couple times talking to Violet out in the parking lot, but the guy never actually entering the building. It was her brother, Dash Parr. He checked the time index on the video. "Whoa, according to logs, this happened a few days ago."

"Wait, someone beat the shit out of the bossman and he just simply let it slide?" Ricky Bernal shook his head as he rolled his chair from his table over to Shiro's. "That doesn't sound like the David Flynn I know."

"Yeah, but to be fair, he's had a lot of crap to deal since then. Having Mexico City being devastated some Earthquake cause by something other than natural forces and providing emergency relief kind of trumps dealing with some whiny bitch with a chip on his shoulder."

"Zoe doesn't seem to think so."

"Yeah, well Zoe's got issues."

"True, but you saw what happened. That fucker jumped David in our front yard and beat him to a pulp." Several of the others in the cafe nodded in agreement with Ricky.

Shiro took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He knew that Ricky and the others wanted to get some payback...hell, even he wanted to look for Dash Parr and dump his ass in the bay a few times, but this wasn't the time for that. "Look," he finally said, "we're not going to get involved at the moment." Though he addressing Ricky, Shiro made sure everyone in the cafe heard him. "We stick to the jobs we're supposed to do and act none the wiser until Zoe makes her move."

"And then what?" asked someone else. "Ignore it?"

"No, that's when we all decide to take a group 'lunch' break and we all go for a 'take out' order."

"A take out order?"

"Yeah, we all go and TAKE this little shit OUT."

* * *

_**Pacifica Cove**_

_**North of Metroville, California**_

Ashley wasn't sure what to expect when she agreed to accompany Zoe on her visit to see the enigmatic Edna Mode. She had known of Mode's reputation as a reclusive and eccentric fashion designer, but she was unaware of Edna's reputation of being a suit designer for supers. That revelation caught her off guard. Then again, she realized, it shouldn't have been surprising especially when Zoe explained that Edna was already using a substance similar to Eufibre long before the Galatea incident and nova Anibal Cristobal-Buendia supposedly developed and marketed it.

"Edna is old school," Zoe explained as they entered the mansion's front door. "She was designing costumes for supers until the mid-80s when the ban went into effect."

"So how do you know her?" Ashley asked.

"She's a friend of my parents and…well…she had to design some specialized clothing for me when my powers first manifested." Zoe blushed slightly. "You see, it was before I could attune my powers so my clothes wouldn't wear out or disintegrate on me whenever I went super fast."

"Ah," Ashley said, nodding in understanding. "Just curious, how old were you when your powers kicked in?"

"Five," Zoe replied. "I remember that day very well. Mom had picked me up from school, went grocery shopping, and that was when I discovered something that changed my life forever."

"Well, suddenly having powers would change your life forever."

"No, I'm not talking about that." Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's the day I had my first mocha."

That revelation made Ashley suddenly stop in her tracks. "Whoa, wait," she said. "Let me get this straight; your powers manifested the day you had your first mocha…and you were five?"

"Hey, Mom was too busy yapping on the phone to Dad about some dinner party while putting groceries away. She left her mocha on the counter and told me to stay put."

"You didn't stay put, did you?"

"Of course I did, I was waiting for her to pull out the bag of gummi bears she had bought me. I was trying to be good…honest." Zoe sounded sincere, but there was a mischievous gleam in her eye as she continued her story. "It's just that five minutes can seem like an eternity. Mom was still talking to Dad and putting groceries away, but she hadn't gotten to the gummi bears yet, so…being the curious and innocent little kid that I was, I saw her drink on the counter in front of me. I figured if my mom can drink it, it must be okay to take a sip and see why she drank so many of those."

"Uh-oh." Ashley could see where this was going and it was taking all her effort to not laugh as she imagined a five year old Zoe climbing onto the table where the mocha was sitting, and drinking it. "What happened?"

Zoe smiled at her friend. "Chocolate-Coconutty-Carmel goodness," she said. "One sip, and I forgot about the gummi bears…then I took another sip…which became a gulp…and everything became a blur and I found myself finishing my mom's drink and then crying when I realized I was standing in the middle of some park a few miles away alone by myself."

Ashley felt a little sympathy as she imagined what that might have been like to suddenly have super-speed and blindly show up in the middle of some unknown place. She was about to say something when she heard someone clear their throat.

"What Little Zoe fails to tell," a heavily accented voice said, "is that she left Little Zoe-with-coffee cup shaped hole in wall of living room and a panic-stricken mother."

Ashley turned to face the direction of the voice, then looked down to see a short petite woman with black hair and oversized glasses looking up at her.

"Edna," Zoe began, stepping towards the short woman, "this is-"

Edna waved off Zoe's introduction. "Ashley Winthrop, also known as former XWF performer Boom Box," she said. "Facial recognition software identified you before you even passed through the gate. Hopefully we can come up with a suit that is not as atrocious as the one they had the hack Buendia create for you."

"Um, I'm not here for a suit," Ashley said, caught off by the woman's sudden shift from cold and aloof to a sort of 'cheerful snobbiness'.

"Nonsense daaahling! You can't come all this way and not get something for your troubles."

Ashley was about to say something, but was elbowed by Zoe who whispered, "Just go with it."

They followed the older woman down the hallway, through a lobby where a receptionist was sitting behind a desk. Ashley saw two other women sitting in comfortable leather chairs and reading magazines; one of them looked up and nodded at Ashley before going back to her magazine. It took her a moment, but Ashley recognized her as a well known supermodel.

"Is that-" she started to ask, but was cut off by Edna.

"Yes, dahling, it is," Edna said, "but you will forget you saw her here, yes? Many supermodels come here, though not as much since that hack Buendia showed up on the scene."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be." Edna laughed and shook her head before muttering, "Supermodels…nothing really super about them. However, if Buendia wants to cut into that business that is okay with me." Then the expression on her face darkened. "But if he cuts into my _**real**_ business too much," she sneered, displaying teeth that looked like they belonged more to a shark than a diminutive middle-aged woman, "I will eat him alive." Then, just as suddenly, the dark mood vanished and the "cheerful snobby fashion designer" was back as she led the way down another hallway. "Come along, dahlings, we have much to do today and so very little time. Chop, chop."

The three of them continued down the hallway and Ashley noticed that there were several security cameras and other such smaller devices down the hallway. In the past, she never would have noticed such things; but after seeing some of the security measures at SST, she unconsciously found herself looking at decorations or photos on walls and checking to see if there was a cleverly concealed camera. This corridor alone had enough security measures that she wondered if this Edna Mode was more paranoid than David. She was suddenly broken out of her thoughts when their host stopped and held up an arm.

"Stay there for a moment, dahlings," Edna said as she stepped up to a retina scanner and then spoke into a tiny microphone. "Edna Mode." Suddenly a couple hidden compartments in the ceiling opened up and what appeared to be two ugly high-tech chainguns with laser-pointers swung down and locked onto Zoe and Ashley, the red laser dots locked on their foreheads. Ashley tensed up, shocked at this turn of events, but Zoe simply yawned. "And guests," Edna added.

The red lasers flickered to yellow, and then proceeded to go up and down the bodies of the two younger women. "Identifying," a cold metallic voice reverberated through the corridor. "Winthrop, Ashley…confirmed. Kilmarten, Zoe…confirmed." The lasers shifted to green before shutting off and the two chainguns withdrew back into the ceiling. Then the metallic voice returned, but it actually sounded…happy. "Welcome back, Little Zoe!"

"Dammit, I'm almost seventeen, for crying out loud!" Zoe yelled as the end of the corridor opened up.

"Stop whining, Little Zoe," Edna snapped as she entered her workshop and motioned for the two young women to follow her. "We have much work to do...so no whining!"

* * *

_**Somewhere off the California Coast**_

Buddy winced slightly as he felt the pain shoot up his right arm, his brain telling him that there was a searing pain being caused by the torch he was using on it, the kind of pain that would tell a man that flesh was probably being burned to a crisp right now and cause them to scream. However, this pain actually made Buddy smile. No, he wasn't a masochist (though, it also depended on what kind of pain and who was causing it that might change his mind), but the pain was good thing. The pain informed him that he could now feel his right arm again and a simple, almost unconscious, thought allowed him to wiggle his fingers and rotate his right hand. It was an impressive feat, actually.

Especially since his right arm was currently lying on the small table, waiting to be attached to his body.

It took him three days to perfect this replacement for his lost arm, but it was worth it. The smooth polished chrome look, streamlined systems, improved power core, and interchangeable neural link made his previous two cybernetic arms look like antiques (though he did kind of miss the "steampunk" look of the arm he had in prison). After a few more adjustments, he sealed the panel in the chrome wrist in and leaned back to study his handiwork before letting out a low whistle.

"Oh baby, look at you," he said appreciatively. He sat there for a few seconds then picked the arm up off the table with his flesh and blood arm. "Okay, let's do this." The mechanical servos on his right shoulders whirred to life and opened up, exposing flashing circuitry and interface connections. "And," he said dramatically as he attached the arm, "let there be life!"

A second later he swore loudly as an electrical jolt shot through his body for a moment, then subsided. He stumbled for a moment as his body momentarily lost its equilibrium before stabilizing. "Shit," he said, "forgot about the shifting of balance part again." Then he smiled as he raised his right arm and curled his hand into a fist. "Oh yeah…much better now."

He looked over at the flat-screen television on the wall which was tuned into N!Channel. Curious, he grabbed the remote off the table and turned up the volume so he could hear what the reporter was saying.

"Relief efforts are still coming in from several international organizations with Utopia spearheading the efforts despite some minor conflicts with representatives of the SST contingent." The screen then showed still video images of Caestus Pax holding David Flynn by the front of his shirt. "Despite these setbacks," the reporter continued, "Project Utopia continues to oversee a good portion of the relief effort."

Buddy snickered at that, shaking his head in disbelief. He had seen the actual video footage that had been put out by the networks not affiliated with Project Utopia and he had to admit that he did feel a little pride as he watched his bastard "son" stand his ground against one of the most powerful beings on the planet without even breaking a sweat. He had the television then link up to the net where he browsed through various news sites where most of the stories talked about the "tragic incident" of Mexico City and the various stories of what really happened.

It was amusing actually, watching the assorted media place blame on various groups though most of the Utopia friendly networks and sites were making sure to point their fingers at the Teragen. In a way, Geryon showing up was a blessing, but Buddy couldn't help being a little offended that the nova terrorist was being given credit for his awesome display of power. However, he managed to push that anger aside, gently assuring his own ego that the world would burn and they would know who the man was holding the blowtorch and enjoying every minute of it.

He also enjoyed the luxuries this mega-yacht he had taken from the Nakato had to offer. Aside from having a helipad (which also served as a launching platform), it had a store room stocked full of goodies (like bastardized versions of his own technology) and a workshop. He also found at least ten million dollars in cash which he knew would come in handy. It was nice to have a mobile base of operations, especially one that he was able to rig with the latest ECM technology that pretty much rendered him invisible to all but "line-of-sight" detection. It was almost a shame that he was going to have to get rid of it soon, but sacrifices had to be made.

_But until then, I might as well enjoy it._

He hit another button the remote and the television switched to a digital music channel. After spending a few seconds scrolling through some selections, he found what he was looking for, highlighted the selection, and then turned up the volume. A few more seconds later, he was nodding his head in time to the beat as the heavy thrum of a bass guitar started to fill the air. With a smile, he grabbed one of the wrenches he had on the table and started singing a long to the song, pretending the wrench was a microphone.

"_I can't seem to face up to the facts.  
I'm tense and nervous and I... can't relax.  
I can't sleep, cause my bed's on fire.  
Don't touch me I'm a real live wire."_

_"Psycho Killer  
Qu'est-ce que c'est?  
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better  
Run run run run run run run away  
OH OH OH"_

"_Psycho Killer  
Qu'est-ce que c'est?  
fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa better  
Run run run run run run run away  
OH OH OH  
AY AY AY AY AY WOO"_

A digital chirping noise broke into his fun time and Buddy suddenly realized that the encrypted call he was expecting was now coming in.

"Oh shit," he said as he had the remote shut down the music and switched the screen over to his video call. He gave the screen a confident smirk as it divided into four separate windows, telling him that all four leaders of the Church of Michael wanted to talk to him. "Gentlemen," he greeted them, "I was starting to wonder if I would hear from you. It's been almost four days."

"We apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Gabriel," said Grand Deacon Micah Piper. His smile seemed genuine, but Buddy could tell from the malicious gleam in the eyes of that grandfatherly face that the old man was truly impressed. "There were some of us who were still skeptical of what you were claiming to do."

Buddy grinned and shrugged. "Well, I hate to toot my own horn, but I promised you something, and I did it."

"And exactly what was the purpose of this…this…incident?" asked Milo Arboghast. "And was killing that many people truly necessary?"

Buddy could tell from the expressions on the faces of the others that one of the others, Esteban Torano, felt the same way while Theobald Horton nodded in agreement to the question but failed to hide his jealousy behind an otherwise cold mask of neutraility. However, there was something about Arboghast that made Buddy feel a little wary.

_What's up with this bastard? Something seems a little off with him._

"Well, Mr. Arboghast," he said, "the answer to your first question was basically an audition, proof that I was serious and what kind of technology I have at my disposal. As for killing that many people, let me ask you this: Now that someone has seriously stepped up and truly hurt Utopia, how many people do you think will be willing to side with them if they realize that Utopia can't protect them? How many of your people actually see hope at the fact that the 'devil's own' can be killed and that Utopia can be stopped? What has it done for overall morale for the cause?"

"What do you care about the cause?" Horton sneered. "You're not one of us."

"No," Buddy said, nodding in agreement, "but I share your dream. I believe that having a bunch of super-powered thugs and their wannabe one-world organization is wrong for the world and they have to be stopped." He then gave them a sad look, one that he had managed to master over the years. "Utopia, and the people behind it ruined me," he said, letting bitter venom fill his voice. "I was scientist, a baseline, but brilliant. I had created technology that was decades ahead of everyone else and THEY took it, imprisoned me, and forced me to work for them!"

He paused for a moment, his sadness now replaced by cold hatred which was actually genuine despite the fact that he was putting up a false front.

_Well, not exactly false, but edited, revised, and tailor made to fit their sympathies._

"You're right, Mr. Horton. I may not be part of your little club, but I have been fighting them longer than you have. I have been imprisoned by them, tortured, and forced to watch as they benefited from my work. You want to fight the good fight for the good Lord, go right ahead. I have a personal score to settle with these people and I thought, that maybe, we could be allies since we share the same enemies." He paused again to let that sink in. "However, if you don't want my help and just simply bide your time until THEY come for you and your followers, then that's your choice."

There was silence for a few seconds and nobody said anything until, finally, Esteban Torano spoke up. "I mean no disrespect, Mr. Gabriel, but Brother Milo does bring up a valid point. What you did in San Francisco and Mexico City was impressive, but don't you think you went a little overboard for an 'audition'?"

"When fighting the enemy, Mr. Torano, there are no such things as 'going overboard' or 'overkill'. It's you or them. Given the stand of your organization and what you have accomplished, I thought you understood that." Buddy watched as the four men pondered his words. He could see that Torano was a little troubled by his response, but he was surprised to see an actual nod of agreement from Theobald Horton.

_Man, he must really have a hate-on for novas if he's willing to agree with me. Torano seems a little squeamish…how the hell did he rise so high in this group?_

"So, Mr. Arboghast," he said, "are you going to answer my questions?"

Before Arboghast could reply, Micah Piper spoke up. "Actually, Mr. Gabriel, your actions have and rumors about you have raised the spirits of the congregation."

Buddy had to stifle a chuckle at Piper's comment, settling for another smirk. "And exactly how did they hear about me, Mr. Piper? I don't remember advertising."

Piper gave Buddy that annoying grandfatherly smile again. "As you implied, their spirits needed lifting, and I only told a few of them to be patient and wait. It wasn't until your actions in Mexico City that they have truly begun to believe."

"So, I take it that you've agreed to my proposal?"

Three of the four men nodded, though there was some reluctance on Torano's part, but Buddy let that slide. Instead, he focused on the one man who didn't nod. "I take it you object, Mr. Arboghast?"

"I go the way of the Inner Circle, Mr. Gabriel," the man replied. "I may not like it, but I refuse to divide their ranks. But I will be watching you closely."

"I see," Buddy said, noting that the challenge and threat had been thrown down. However, he decided there would be time for it later. "So, now that I'm in…is there anything I can do for you now?"

"Well, now that you mention it," Piper said, that malicious gleam still in his eyes, "how are you at public speaking?"


	11. Meanwhile V

Disclaimer: You know the drill...don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own The Incredibles, Pixar does. Don't own Chris Matthews, MSNBC and Satan do.

Author's note: It's about midnight, I'm tired, I hope this isn't too full of errors. Had a hell of a time writing the fight scene. For those of you who don't know this, part of this is a variation on Crazystick's short story "The Reckoning". Just to warn you, my version is a little different. Anyway, I hope you like this. I'm off to bed and I'll look over this tomorrow for any editing (or adding/refining).

And, as usual, thanks to the usual suspects. The Plothook crew, Shannon, 'Bravo, PegasusCrystal, Digimon Lantern, Walker, a whole bunch of people I seem to forget right now, especially that guy from Russia who keeps reading. Don't know who you are, but thanks.

* * *

"_**After spending a week in Mexico City, David Flynn announced he would be returning back to his corporate headquarters, but his company and other private groups will continue to provide aid to the refugee camp he helped set up on the outskirts of the city. Thanks to donations from independent sources, the camp that had been dubbed 'Camp Makeshift' has expanded, providing relief and medical aid to survivors of the disaster. Though small compared to the three camps Utopia set up a few days ago, Camp Makeshift has become a beacon of hope to many people. Though some critics downplay the camp's importance, they seem to have forgotten that it was set up days before Utopia had established any refugee camps and treatment centers of their own. When confronted with this, Utopia representatives refuse to comment, stating that they are now here and that is all that matters."**_

-CTV News

"_**Novox singer Alejandra, world famous performer and a native of Mexico City has announced that she will be performing a tour of benefit concerts to help the survivors of the disaster. Tickets will be available online and through various Ticket Master outlets..."**_

-N!Channel N!TERNAINMENT NEWS

"_**So David Flynn is returning back to his little domain after doing a PR tour in a failed attempt to endear himself to the media. Okay, kid, some advice, leave the real world problems to the grown-ups, okay? People like you don't belong on the world stage."**_

-MSNBC "Hardball with Chris Matthews"

"_**Chris Matthews is an idiot, end of story. Hell, he can't even conduct an interview with a big name celebrity or political figure without creaming his jeans and having it run down his leg. Chris, there's this product out there...it's called DEPENDS...you might want to look into it."**_

-"The Duke Rollo Show", XM Radio

"_**Finally! The little piece of shit is returning back to his little hole with his tail between his legs. About damn time. Now that he and those other losers who backed him are out of the picture, Utopia can move in and set things right without assholes like Flynn preventing them from making any progress."**_

-The Brandi Miller Show, Air America

* * *

_**Pacifica Cove**_

Ashley leaned back in one of the leather chairs of the "observation lounge", sipping some herbal tea while Zoe looked at the walls lined with photographs of various heroes and villains that Edna had done work for. What she had thought was going to be an "errand day" where she figured she would be keeping an eye on Zoe (and trying to keep her out of trouble) had turned into more of a "spa day". Granted, she hadn't expected Edna Mode to offer to make her a suit (free of charge) and it was hard to say no the persuasive and eccentric lady, but she didn't expect to spend the day going through a rigorous battery of tests and then relaxing in a hot-tub before finally ending up in an "observation lounge" that felt more like a comfortable living room.

As usual, Zoe had a cup of coffee in her hand, walking around the room and looking at all the pictures while she took small uncharacteristic sips compared to her usual gulps. She suddenly stopped and almost choked when she came across the picture of one hero; a young man wearing a black and crimson bodysuit, a wraparound mask, and sporting spiky red hair. "Redline!" she choked out. "Oh…my…god…that's my Dad?"

Curious, Ashley got up out of her chair and walked over to where Zoe was standing. She looked at the picture that had put Zoe in shock and nodded in approval. "Wow," she said, "your Dad didn't look that bad back then."

"And he had hair!"

"Well, Zoe, look at how long ago this picture was taken…this was almost twenty years ago." Then Ashley looked at some of the other pictures of the hero known as Redline, particularly of the photos that had Redline and a young woman with brown and pink streaked hair wearing little more than a thong bikini, fishnet body stocking, and wielding a metallic whip. One of the photos had the unknown woman and Redline holding each other close with one of her legs wrapped around him. "And," Ashley added, "It looks like your Dad was quite the player."

"No," Zoe said, obviously in denial. "We're talking about my Dad, former hero, and cue-ball headed uptight attorney. There is NO way he could score with a girl like THAT." This time, she started to gulp her coffee down, hoping that the caffeine rush would make her forget this revelation.

"Funny, you should say that, dahling," Edna said as she casually sauntered into the room. "After all, he did marry her."

Coffee suddenly shot out of Zoe's nose and mouth as she choked on it, dropping the porcelain cup to the ground. "Wh-what!" she managed to gasp.

Edna sighed and shook her head as she pulled a small remote out of her jacket and pressed a button. A few seconds later, a small robotic vacuum cleaner hovered out of a hidden compartment in the wall and cleaned up the pieces of broken coffee cup before spraying a chemical concoction on the spill and then vacuuming it up. "Really, dahling Zoe," she said as she pushed another button on the remote and walked past the two women towards one of the walls that slid aside to reveal a large window to another large room. "It's hard to believe Redline and Roulette kept you entirely in the dark, but I guess they succeeded."

Zoe glanced at the picture of Roulette…her Mother…and then shook her head. "Okay, she is officially no longer allowed to tell me what I can and can't wear."

"If it's of any comfort to you, dahling, she stopped wearing that costume a little after that photo was taken." Edna paused for a moment, a thoughtful on her face as she remembered something. "Come to think of it, you were born about nine months after that photo was taken."

"TMI!" Zoe screeched. "TMI!"

"Oh be quiet, Little Zoe," Edna snapped. "It was bound to happen eventually. Even when they were enemies they were all over each other."

"EEEEEEEEEEEK!"

There was a rush of wind as Zoe bolted out of the room.

"I think you broke her, Ms. Mode," Ashley said.

"She'll be back in a few minutes," Edna chuckled while she pushed a couple keys on a console that rose up out of the floor. "In the meantime, let's look at your suit, shall we?"

A mannequin rolled long on a conveyor belt wearing a black and green costume. Two machine-guns dropped out of the ceiling and fired several rounds at the suit.

"As you can see, dahling," Edna said, pushing another button on the console, "the suit is bullet proof. You may think it redundant because you are bullet proof, but I'm sure you don't want your suit shot off you." A flame thrower popped up out of the floor and bathed the mannequin with a ribbon of flaming napalm. "Fire resistant and machine washable."

"That's cool," Ashley said, "but why the emerald green and black color scheme?"

"Because it fits you, dahling." Edna smiled at the younger woman. "Besides, it's a whole lot better than that skimpy green and yellow monstrosity you wore in your XWF career."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Ashley groaned. "I hated that thing, especially the damn cape."

The expression on Edna's face darkened momentarily. "No capes," she half-growled. "I will never design a suit with a cape. Capes get you killed and they are quite atrocious as far as fashion goes." Ashley could tell from Edna's tone that this was a sore topic. She was about to change the subject when a gust of wind blew through the room and Zoe was back with a mocha shake in her hand.

"What about Divis Mal?" Zoe asked. "He has a cape, doesn't he?"

"Well, I didn't design his cape, dahling," Edna snapped defensively. "Besides," she added with a shrug, "he's Divis Mal; he looks fabulous in anything, he could wear tights and a pink tutu and still look good."

"And why would Divis Mal wear a pink tutu?"

"Oh, it was Mardi Gras '01 and we were-" Edna suddenly stopped in mid-sentence as she realized what she was saying. She cleared her throat and pressed another button. "Moving on," she said, "let's talk about your suit, Little Zoe."

"Wait, no, not fair," Zoe whined, "I wanna' hear about Mal and the tutu."

Edna ignored the comment and started talking about Zoe's suit as another mannequin rolled across the conveyor belt wearing a black bodysuit with a pink upside-down triangle on the chest and it went through the gauntlet of gunfire and flames that Ashley's suit had gone through. "As you've requested, it's electrically conductive so you can 'bleed off' the build up."

"What, no 'underwear' outside the suit?"

Edna gave a derisive snort. "That look is fading fast, Little Zoe, and you did specify skin-tight."

"But what if it bunches up on me?"

"Such is the price of fashion, my dear." Edna glanced at her for a moment and smiled. "But you should not worry, Little Zoe; with your body type, you should be able to wear it without difficulty."

"So how much do I owe you, Edna?" Zoe asked.

"Oh, no charge, dahlings, for either of you," Edna said, waving away the company credit card Zoe had pulled out. "Just promise that you'll send your employer my way."

"Um…yeah," Zoe said, trying figure out a way to put this delicately without offending Edna. "David's not exactly the 'super suit' type."

"No," Ashley said, "he isn't. Hell, he's not even a 'normal suit' guy. I mean, Violet literally had to pull teeth to get him to go to Men's Wearhouse." She laughed as she remembered the day David walked through the lobby of SST in his new business suit, pulling at his tie and whining as Violet Parr dragged him along. "I'm sorry, Ms. Mode, but I think he's more of a casual-wear guy."

Edna frowned at that revelation. "Hmmm, that is too bad," she said. Then she shrugged, pulled several business cards out of her jacket and handed them to Zoe. "Oh well, here's some of my business cards, give them to some of your co-workers. Tell them I will give them a discount."

"Now that we can do," Zoe said as she pocketed the cards.

"Very good then," Edna said. She pushed another button on the console and the wall slid back into place while the console started to slowly descend back into the floor. "Now, follow me and we can go pick up your suits." She started to lead them out of the room, then stopped and turned to look back at Zoe. "Out of curiosity, dahling," she said, "which of your parents footsteps do you intend to follow?"

"Neither," Zoe said, a grim expression on her face. "It's all about payback."

Edna shook her head and clicked her tongue. "Revenge…not really a good reason for a suit, but at least it gave me something to do."

"Yeah, well, when dealing with pricks like Dash Parr, sometimes it's the only way to send a message."

* * *

A half hour later, Edna waved good bye as she watched the pick-up truck drive off. She waited ten minutes until security had confirmed that the truck had cleared the gates before she pulled out her cell-phone and dialed a number. As the phone rang on the other end, she found herself wondering if she really should be making a call. After all, it could be considered a violation of a client's privacy.

On the other hand, the Parrs were good friends of hers and she did know about the current situation with the family. If anyone would have a good idea as to why Zoe Kilmarten was targeting Dash, it would be one of Zoe's co-workers.

After another two seconds, someone picked up on the other end. "Hello?"

"Violet, dahling, it's been so long."

"Edna? I've been trying to call you for the last few hours, but your secretary said you've been busy with a client."

"Yes, I have been. And that is why I'm calling you." Edna paused for a moment, briefly considering the option of simply staying out of it but dismissed that option almost immediately. "Dahling," she finally said, "is there some reason why Miss Kilmarten wants to beat your brother to a bloody pulp with a crowbar?"

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Violet was mad...no, scratch that, she was pissed. When she had first heard about Dash's attack on David, she was reluctant to go along with David's wishes and let it go. Her instinct was to tell her parents and confront her brother, but David made it clear that she should just let the matter drop. Then Mexico City happened and Dash's assault on David seemed trivial as everyone mobilized to provide aid and relief. Even the new-hires were pressed into service and Damon had gone down to Mexico City with David's team.

With David off to Mexico City and regular business "put on the back burner" while he focused on helping the relief effort, SST was fairly quiet while people who would normally be working on various projects were helping on procuring aid or helping with the logistics. The only "normal business" taking place was the small SST contingent being sent to the old BS2 facility in Arizona that David had quietly arranged to purchase.

Surprisingly, being in charge during David's absence wasn't the crazy three ring circus she was expecting, even with Zoe returning. However, Violet was suspecting something was up the day David left because of the dark looks the pink haired girl kept throwing in her direction. For some reason, Violet and Zoe didn't get along, though they did manage to stay cordial. Having talked to Ashley, Violet learned that Zoe saw Violet as a rival for David's attention. Violet thought that was funny…her and David?

However, the usual dark looks were more venomous than usual. The next few days of David's absence consisted of Zoe glaring at Violet for a few moments whenever they saw each other in the lobby. It wasn't until this morning when Violet discovered her e-mail account had been disabled and she fixed it that she realized that Zoe did find out about Dash's attack on David. And to make matters worse, she learned that Zoe had sent an e-mail out to all SST employees with a video attachment that contained the attack.

Then Zoe took the day off (and apparently dragged Ashley along) to go see Edna Mode…that was another warning sign. Another sign that something was up was some of the looks she got from her fellow SST employees. She tried to call Ashley and Zoe on their phones, but both went straight to voice-mail. She tried to call Edna Mode and ended up being told by some stuffy assistant that "Ms. Mode is busy with a client" and that she should leave a message. She then called Null, who also didn't answer his phone and was conspicuously absent as well.

She spent the rest of the day going over David's plans for the BS2 facility, but she noticed how some of the employees would stop talking when she was around or the topic of the conversation would change. But it wasn't until about three in the afternoon that she got a phone call from Edna Mode that had her running out to her car and driving to her family's home. On her way there, she called her brother's cell.

"Yo!"

"Dash, what are you doing?" Violet asked, relieved to hear her brother's voice.

"Football practice, sis. Remember, I'm on the team."

"Oh, right," Violet said. "Look, do you need to be there?"

"Um, given the fact that I'm their star receiver I'm going to have to say yeah," Dash chuckled. "What's up?"

"Look, just see if you can get out of it early and come home. You need to be there."

The tone in Dash's voice suddenly changed from amused to hostile. "Vi," he said, "the last time we all had to be there, Mom revealed that we had a psychopath in the family." Then he chuckled. "On the other hand, I did get over it."

"By beating the crap out of David Flynn?" Violet asked.

There was silence for a moment. "Oh," Dash said, "you know about that."

"Yeah, I know about that and that's why you need to get home right away."

"Or what," Dash said, "you'll rat me out to Mom and Dad? The worst they'll do is ground me…maybe."

"Dash, I'm serious. I don't think you have to worry about Mom and Dad, it's someone else."

Dash laughed again. "What...last I checked, Syndrome Jr's left town playing the role of false hero down in Mexico. And I doubt that pack of posers and geeks working for him will do anything."

"Dash, he's my boss...and I wouldn't say he's being a false hero."

"Don't tell me you're actually buying into his BS...are you?"

Violet sighed. "Dash, it doesn't matter what I think, okay? Just get your ass home as soon as you can." She closed the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat as she pulled into her family's driveway alongside her father's car which had apparently arrived just before she did because her father was just getting out of the car,

"Hey Vi, what's up?" her father asked.

She looked past her father and saw Jack sitting in the passenger seat, looking mildly depressed.

_Great, the two most powerful members of my family are the first ones to get home. How am I going to break this to them?_

She took a deep breath before she answered, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. "Dad, I think we might have a problem."

* * *

_**Sansweet Park**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Dash had pretty much ignored his sister's warning and finished football practice. He was half tempted to join some of his teammates for a run to Georgio's Pizzeria, but decided not to. Violet did sound upset, so Dash didn't doubt his sister believed he was in trouble. However, he figured she was just over reacting.

_Yeah, as if those souped up geeks actually pose a real threat to me._

Then he hesitated for a moment as he remembered what happened that night he had confronted David Flynn on his own doorstep. Sure, some whiners would say that he jumped Flynn like a common thug, but this was the son of Syndrome he was dealing with. As far as Dash was concerned, David Flynn was just a copy of his father, right down to the smug grin. It felt good to beat the shit out of that punk...until that punk fought back. Dash hated to admit it, but David Flynn actually did put up a good fight when Dash didn't use his super speed. In fact, Flynn probably would have beat him to a pulp if Dash hadn't kicked the speed back on.

He was about to teach Syndrome's bastard a lesson when that damn Native American showed up. Dash wasn't even sure how, but that damn indian crept up behind him and actually had a knife at his throat. But what bothered Dash more was the other man's willingness to actually take him on, and he was even willing to let Dash have the knife "so it would be a fair fight". Dash wasn't sure how he knew, but he got the feeling that the other man would probably do more than beat him up; something in the man's eyes told Dash that this fight would not have ended well.

So Dash figured it was better to take off. He had accomplished what he intended to do; teach David Flynn a lesson by beating the shit out of him. He didn't need to concern himself with any of Flynn's little band of suck-ups.

_Violet's just overreacting. They wouldn't do anything so stupid as to attack a hero._

He chuckled at that thought and kicked on the super-speed to head home. He figured a few times through the city on a short "patrol" before heading home would relax him before he had to deal with another "family talk". Hopefully, it wouldn't be as crappy as the last one.

He felt a light breeze brush past him, but it hadn't quite registered that he felt that breeze while going at superspeed...at least until he felt himself trip over something and go airborne for a few seconds before hitting ground a over a hundred yards further down the road and then rolling another fifty yards, a burning sensation on his arms shoulders and legs where he scraped across pavement before coming to a stop.

He just laid there for a few seconds, trying to figure out what just happened.

_I tripped over something...but that's never happened before. Shit...that fucking hurts._

He managed to sit up and looked down at his body. His clothes were torn where he hit the pavement and he could see blood where skin had been ripped off his body, but he could also feel the pain as his hyper-metabolism kicked in and he could see his injuries begin to heal. He waited a few more seconds and then got back up on his feet. He still felt a little pain and stumbled a bit when he stood up, but managed to stay upright. A few more seconds later, most of the pain was gone. He looked down his torn clothing and shook his head.

"Damn," he muttered as he looked at his bloody jeans. "I should have worn my suit."

Then he felt another breeze and felt something hit him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and knocking him end over end before he landed with an audible thud on the ground. As he tried to get up, he heard someone chuckle, "Ouch...that look like it might have hurt."

_That voice...it sounds familiar_, he thought to himself as he managed to gasp for breath. He managed to get up on his knees and stopped when he saw a young woman in black and pink bodysuit standing there with an aluminum baseball bat in her hands. Though the wrap-around mask concealed her face, the spiky pink hair on her head was a dead giveaway.

"What the-Zoe?" He still couldn't believe what he was seeing. Zoe Kilmarten was actually wearing a suit of her own.

"Yeah, Parr, it's me," Zoe said as she brandished the aluminum bat in her hands. "But you can call me Streak and this," she held up the baseball bat, "is my good friend Mr. Blunt-Trauma Applicator." She blurred out as she charged him with her own super-speed.

Dash managed to kick his own power on and barely roll out of the way just in time. Sparks erupted from the pavement where Zoe's bat hit the ground. He rolled to his feet and started running but didn't get far because Zoe suddenly appeared in front of him, her right arm raised as a bolt of electricity shot out of her hand and into his body. Dash screamed as he felt the electricity shoot through his body and dropped to the ground, twitching involuntarily from being mildly electrocuted.

"Bitch," he managed to cough out as he gasped for breath.

"Guilty as charged," Zoe said, twirling the bat in her hand as she walked up and kicked him in the ribcage. "Don't bother getting up, Dash, I like you down there. Tell me, did you feel any satisfaction when you jumped David like a common street thug and beat the shit out of him? The reason I'm asking is because I'm only returning the favor and I feel all nice and tingly." Then she shrugged. "Or maybe it's just that time of the month for me." She swung the bat down, catching Dash in the shoulder as he tried to get back up again, causing him to spin and drop back to the ground. "I don't recall giving you permission to get up."

Despite the pain he was feeling, Dash couldn't help laughing. "It figures," he snickered, spitting some blood out of his mouth. "Your boy didn't have the balls to take me on, so he sends you instead." He then used his superspeed to spin on the ground and sweep Zoe's legs out from underneath her. He rolled on top of her, grabbing the aluminum baseball bat and pinning her to the ground, slamming his fist into her jaw and knocking her out cold. "Pretty sloppy, Zoe," he sneered, "letting your guard down like that. But that's to be expected from an amateur like you."

He got up off her and stood there for a couple seconds, looking down at her before turning his attention to the bat. "You know, I don't usually hit girls, Kilmarten," he said to the unconscious girl, "but since your Flynn's pet slut, I can make an exception." He raised the bat high, preparing to swing. "Besides, it's not like you need both kneecaps."

Before he could bring the bat down, it was yanked out of his hands. On instinct, his speed kicked in and he managed to duck before a fist could slam into his face. He looked up and saw six foot tall woman with blond and auburn streaked hair in a black bodysuit with green trim standing over him. Before he could react again, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hoisted him off the ground. "Hi there," she said, "we haven't been introduced yet, I'm Boom Box." She then threw him several yards where he landed on top of a picnic table.

Dash rolled with the impact and was back up on his feet. "Let me guess," he said, "another bitch on Flynn's payroll?" He then smiled as he took in the woman's measurements. "Well, at least he's got taste." He charged forward, expecting to breeze past her and hit her in the jaw a few times, but was taken by surprise as she actually caught his fist, grabbed his arm and then threw him to the ground where he rolled several feet before hitting a tree. He blinked a couple times, still not believing what happened. "What the hell? You couldn't have seen that coming."

Boom Box shook her head, cracking her knuckles as she walked towards him. "By the way," she smirked, "I can also outrun bullets."

"Good to know," Dash said, "but there are things faster than bullets." He went to full speed and ran around her. She was fast, fast enough to block a dozen of his punches and kicks, but not all two hundred of them. He actually made her drop to her knees and was about to push himself to go faster as he recovered Zoe's baseball bat to use on Boom Box when his head suddenly exploded in a world of pain. He stumbled, dropped the bat, and staggered a little bit before colliding with another tree.

In addition to the pounding headache, the world seemed to spin and distort around him. He managed to stay on his feet, even after colliding with the tree, but he was having a hard time standing.

"What's the matter, Parr," he heard a new voice say, "having equilibrium problems? Here, lie down for a bit." He thought he heard the flapping of wings before a green fist slammed into his face; he stumbled backwards, shaking his head to regain his bearings. The pain subsided and the world stopped spinning, but a wave of nausea hit him and he fought the urge to throw up his lunch. Then he felt something slice across his chest, causing him to scream in pain. He looked down and saw what appeared to be claw marks that ripped open his jacket as well as the shirt and gouging some of the flesh underneath. He then looked up and saw a short winged creature half-crouched a few feet away and stepping back to stay out of arm's reach. "Tell me something," the creature said, "does your power help you rapidly heal?"

Instead of responding to the taunt, Dash tried to charge the creature but his head exploded again in pain and the nausea returned in full force. This time, though, he could actually hear a faint buzzing sound that seemed to fluctuate with the pain and nausea he was experiencing. He turned his head and saw a nerdy looking Hispanic young man with glasses, his mouth opened.

_Ah,_ he thought to himself,_ this fucker's got some sort of ultrasonic ability that must be messing with me. Oh well...time to take him out._

Despite the pain, Dash concentrated, causing his body to begin to vibrate rapidly, desolidifying and sinking into the ground. It was a relatively new trick he mastered only recently, but he he could only do it for a couple minutes at a time. However, he only needed the forty-three seconds to vibrate into the ground, move and then come back up behind the punk with the ultrasonic power. "Light's out, asshole," he said, his fist slamming into the kid's face as he turned around.

"Ricky!" the winged creature screamed, flying towards his fallen friend. Dash smirked at him and sped forward, grabbed the winged creature by one of his legs and flung him to the ground. The creature hit the ground and cried out as one of his arms broke.

"Ouch," snickered Dash as he stood over the fallen creature, "that looks like it hurt." Then he kicked the creature in the face. "But probably not as much as that."

Suddenly, there was "whoosh" of air and Dash felt something grab him by the throat and lift him off the ground. "Not cool," Boom Box said, tightening her grip, causing him to gasp as he grabbed her at arm in a futile attempt to free himself. He then felt himself lifted a little higher and then slammed into the ground. He heard a couple of his ribs snap before he felt the pain of the impact along his spine. His vision blurred for a couple seconds as he fought to stay conscious against the pain that was threatening to knock him out. He heard footsteps and turned his head to see at least a dozen people surrounding him. He tried to get up, but he was having hard time getting his legs to respond. He then felt a foot on his chest that pushed him back onto the ground.

Zoe Kilmarten looked down at Dash and smiled. "Tell me, Dash," she said, "how does it feel? To be helpless, defenseless, not able to fight back?" She raised a fist, blue electrical sparks dancing around it. "Guess this is going to a shock to you, isn't it?" She stretched out her hand, preparing to deliver a few thousand volts into Dash's body, only to be knocked aside by a purple sphere of of energy that then immediately engulfed Dash.

"Okay, people, that's enough!" Violet said as she had the force field bubble lift Dash in the air and bring him over to where she was standing.

"Stay out of this, Violet, it's not your fight," she heard someone say.

"Wrong, Evans. He maybe a jerk, but he's my brother." Violet snapped her fingers and the forcefield dropped Dash to the ground.

"Ow," Dash groaned.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Good, it serves you right." Violet then returned her attention to the small mob standing in front of her. "Look guys, it's over, we're taking him home."

"I don't know, Vi," Ashley said as she stepped in front of the crowd. "I don't think the little puke's got the message yet."

"Aw no, Ash," Violet said, shaking her head. "Not you too."

As if on cue, Violet's father stepped out of the shadows. "Okay, people, you heard her...that's enough."

Almost everyone stopped in their tracks as they recognized Bob Parr. Apparently, beating the crap out of Dash was on their agenda, but facing Mr. Incredible was not. The only person who didn't seem bothered by his presence was Ashley, who cracked her knuckles as she stood there. "Damn," she said, "didn't think Vi would call out the big guns."

"You don't want to do this," Bob warned her as they circled each other for a few seconds.

"Maybe not," Ashley said, "but I've never fought a living legend before either."

"And you won't," said a new voice as Null misted into existence between them. "Okay, everyone, stand down and go home." A glare from him had everyone starting to back away. "Evans, you and Nigel get Ricky and Shiro to the infirmary. Party's over, people." He clapped his hands. "Go home, now!"

A few minutes later, everyone had left except for Null, Violet, Bob, and Dash.

"Where the hell were you?" Violet asked Null when he turned to face her. "I tried to call you several times and it kept kicking me to voice mail."

Null shrugged. "I was out of town, actually," he said, "doing some side work for David. He wanted me to talk to some robotics expert at UCLA...some old guy called Sanders. That guy has some really cool shit that might help us out with the BS2 project."

"For crying out loud, Null, our co-workers just tried to gang up on my brother and beat the shit out of him!"

"Really?" Null craned his neck to look at Dash who was now being tended to by Bob. "Hmm," he said, "slow night. Look Vi, be thankful I didn't let it go too far."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Violet asked. Then the realization hit her. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"

"I suspected it might happen when I learned Zoe had hacked the security feed from the last month. I figured she would try something and figured I'd step in before it got too out of hand."

"Well, it did get out of hand," Bob said, doing his best to glare daggers at Null.

"Not really," Null said. "If I really wanted to see your boy seriously hurt, I would have done it myself." He then gave Dash an evil grin. "And I would have even let him have a weapon just to make it a fair fight. Isn't that right, Dash?"

Dash's face paled, but it wasn't entirely out of pain.

Bob stood up to his full height and stared down at Null. "You'll do no such thing," he growled.

Null rolled his eyes and held up his cell-phone. "Oh, give it a rest, Big Guy. I wouldn't waste my time." He tapped the small video screen, the touch pad dissolving to start playing a video. "Besides, before you go all 'Psycho-Dad' on me, let me show you some of your golden boy's greatest hits."

Bob looked down at the small screen and watched as his son jumped David Flynn in a parking lot, his eyes widening in disbelief at what he saw.

Null just smirked at him. "That was awhile back," he said, tapping the screen. "Let's jump ahead to tonight." The screen began playing the fight between Dash and Zoe. "I have hand it to your boy, Mr. Parr. He's got some skills. Managed to overpower Zoe with some unorthodox moves. Oh wait...let me turn the audio up on this as he's raising bat over his head."

"_**You know, I don't usually hit girls, Kilmarten; but since you're Flynn's pet slut, I can make an exception."**_

Bob watched in horror as he saw his son raise the bat and getting ready to bring it down on the unconscious girl.

"_**Besides, it's not like you need both kneecaps."**_

Bob stood there and watched the rest of the fight play out on the video. Null waited until the video ended before putting the phone back in his jacket.

"Now," Null said, "I don't know how the whole 'superhero' thing works for you, because I have a real job. But let me ask you something. Your son, a 'hero'," he made an air-quote gesture with his fingers when he said the word 'hero', "jumped David in the parking lot. Some people in the legal profession would call that 'aggravated assault'. Now granted, Zoe did jump Dash; but your boy, an experienced 'hero' of eight years overpowered and incapacitated her. A 'hero' would have called the authorities, but your boy wanted to cripple her. That's when Boom Box and the others intervened."

"That's not how it happened!" Dash yelled.

Null grinned at the boy. "Actually, that's exactly how it happened. At least that's what the video evidence will show if we decide to pursue this. We have no intention of going public, though. However, I think the NSA would love to learn about this."

"Dad, that's not how it happened," Dash said, though the desperation in his voice said otherwise. "This is a set-up!"

Bob looked over at his son for a moment. "Son," he finally said, "is it true? Did you attack David Flynn?"

Dash looked like he was about to deny the accusation, but thought better of it when he saw Violet glaring at him. "The bastard deserved it," he said, spitting at the ground. "Ever since he showed up, everything went to hell."

"That's not true," Violet said. "You attacked him after..." She stopped in mid-sentence when she realized what she was saying, but managed to recover, "after the argument we had that night."

"Ooookay," Null said, watching this family drama starting to play out in front of him. "It sounds to me like you have some issues you need to work out."

"That's none of your business," Bob said. "You go back and tell your employer I'll be wanting to talk to him."

"Kind of hard to do since he's still down in Mexico, but he'll be back in a couple days. I'll make an appointment."

"You do that."

Instead of responding, Null merely smiled and gave Bob a mock salute and dissipated into a shadowy mist, leaving Bob, Dash and Violet alone in the park.

"Now," Bob said, addressing both of his children. "I want you both to tell me what happened."


	12. Reckoning

Disclaimer: The Incredibles, owned by Disney/Pixar. Aberrant, owned (and abandoned) by White Wolf.

Author's notes: Okay...here we go. For those of you who wanted to see some sort of "rematch" between Dash and David, you might be disappointed. There will be no "knock-down" brawl, sorry. However, I think you will agree that David's idea of "revenge" might be a little bit harsher than the beat-down Zoe and crew inflicted on Dash. I was going to put this up with chapter 11, but decided not to. Needless to say...the "Meanwhile" arc, basically depicting what went on while David was in Mexico, is officially over.

As usual, I want to thank everyone for sticking around with me on this wild ride and I want to thank Crazystick once again for his feedback and idea. Granted, I went down a different path, but I kept some elements. By the way, he's the guy you really need to blame for Zoe...all I did was put a coffee cup in her hand. :-D

Just so you know, this chapter takes place about a week after Dash's fight with the SST crew.

* * *

_To: Director Justin J. Laragione, Project Utopia_

_From: Caestus Pax, Director, Team Tomorrow_

_Justin,_

_I'm sure you are aware of the threat David Flynn represents to Project Utopia and it's endeavors. Unfortunately, because of the sensitive issue of sovereignty in the United States, we can't actively do anything to neutralize this potential threat. However, due to the incident in Mexico City, though tragic, there is an opportunity here._

_As you are aware, I had already approached the Mayor of Metroville and proposed a "local" T2M Auxiliary team that would serve as a back-up for T2M Americas. In light of the tragedy of Mexico City, I am suggesting the possibility of using Metroville as a temporary base of operations for a new T2M Americas. Attached to this letter are files on several novas I believe would make excellent team members._

_Pax_

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

David sighed as he approached his office, sipping his mocha, and dreading what waited behind that door. He wished he didn't have to do this, especially after the disaster in Mexico City and the troubling information he stumbled across while he was down there with the relief team. There really wasn't time to deal with the drama that took place in his absence, but it had to be dealt with. So he decided to wait a couple days after returning home before he decided to deal with it.

Last night, he addressed most of the SST employees involved in the "incident" with Dash Parr, telling them that while he was touched by what they did, they were better than that. "If you can't keep a level head," he told them, "then you've already fucked up." He didn't have to say it, but most of them got the hint that they might be looking for new jobs if they "went rogue" like that again. However, he did thank them for their concern and asked them to at least think before they act.

Despite what had happened, David couldn't help being stunned by their loyalty. When SST started hiring, he took the time to meet and get to know a little about the people who worked for him, but he didn't think most of them (at least those who were able) were willing to step up for him. He half-expected Zoe to do something, but he hadn't expected Ashley and the others to do the same.

Well…maybe Ashley wasn't that much of a surprise either, but still. It was quite a surprise to discover that over half his employees were willing to protect one of their own.

Afterwards, he talked to Null and Violet. Violet was livid and almost quit, but David managed to talk her out of it, but not without a price.

"Fine," Violet said, "if you don't want me to quit, tell me why I should stay. And don't give me some bullshit reason like I'm qualified for this job. Maybe it's true, but you're not telling me everything. If I'm going to be your VP, I want to know everything; including the reason my father is a little wary of you."

"Are you sure?" David had asked her. He knew that he had to let her in on the truth eventually, but he was hoping to do it piecemeal. He had given Violet's father a glimpse of what they were really up against and even the stalwart and unshakable Mr. Incredible paled at what he saw.

"If you can't trust me, David, then I'm outta' here."

David and Null looked at each other for a couple seconds before Null gave David a slight nod of the head. "She does need to know."

"You're right," David said before turning back to Violet. "But this isn't about trust, Vi. I know I can trust you, but I'm not sure you're ready for it. Your father knows and I know he's probably had more than a few sleepless nights thinking about it."

"I don't think you have the right to make that call," Violet said. "I've seen some pretty nasty things in the last eight years."

"I can't argue with that, Vi," David conceded, "because I have read your NSA file. You have faced some ugly shit…but we're talking about dealing with some really big players you're not even aware of."

A determined look formed on Violet's face. "Then tell me," she said, "tell me what we're really dealing with."

Reluctantly, David downloaded information to her office terminal and informed her that it was a one-shot deal. After she closed the various files she read, they would self-delete.

That was last night. When he saw Violet this morning, it was obvious she hadn't gone home. Her clothes were disheveled, her hair a mess, and she was deathly pale. He could tell that she had been crying, but was doing her best to cover it up with a weak smile and a nod. He told her to go home and take the day off. He did this for two reasons, the first being the fact that she really needed the day off and the second being the fact he didn't want her around for his next meeting.

He stopped in front of his office door and hesitated for a moment. The last time he was in a situation like this, Mr. Parr tried to throttle him, though it was understandable as to why. But still, David really hoped he wasn't going into a situation like that again…unfortunately, given the people involved, he suspected it would be worse.

_Okay…here we go again…_

He took a deep breath, slowly let it out, opened the door and stepped into his office.

"Good morning," he said to the four people sitting in front of his desk. As he walked by the Parrs, he noticed that both couples were spaced apart from each other in such a way that there was obvious hostility between them. As he sat down, he could sense some of the hostility now being directed in his direction in the form of two angry glares from Helen Parr and Jennifer Kilmarten. Mr. Kilmarten gave David a cold and clinical look, as if he were evaluating David…not a surprise since the man was an ADA and tended to study the people he prosecuted.

_Except I'm not a criminal,_ David thought to himself. _So the attempt at intimidation or trying to "sweat" me into a deal won't work. Maybe on the idiots you prosecute, but not me._

However, he did note that Bob Parr's reaction was more of concern than anger. But David wasn't surprised at that since he had given Bob some of the information about Project Utopia and what they were really about. If anything, Bob seemed more uneasy at being here than angry.

_He probably sees this as a waste of time, just as I do._ _He knows there's more important shit going on, but at the same time he knows we have to resolve this issue._

David took a sip of his mocha and then set it down on the desk. "Okay," he said, "let's get this over with. You're here because of the little incident that went down last week."

"You mean when your little gang jumped my son," Helen Parr said irritably. It was obvious that she already had made a judgment about David and his people.

"Keep in mind, Mrs. Parr, that your son jumped me in the parking lot of this building for no reason at all," he fired back at her. "I knew that things were uneasy between your family and me, but I was willing to take a 'live and let live policy' with you and I'm still willing to do that. But it doesn't change the fact that something set your boy off and he decided to take it out on me. You don't believe me, you can check out the video."

"Oh, I saw the video." Helen's voice took on an icy tone. "I also saw what your little band of thugs did to my boy." She cocked her head to one side and gave him a cold smile. "Taking a page out of your father's book and having someone else do the dirty work for you?"

_And there it is, the first attempt to paint me just like my father…pretty fucking sad actually._

David smiled at the woman and shook his head. "Mrs. Parr, I know you don't believe me, but I had nothing to do with that. If I wanted payback on Dash, I'd do it myself and believe me when I say that what I can do to him is far worse than the little beat-down my people put him through. Besides, with his rapid healing and metabolism, he recovered the next day anyway." He then leaned forward in his chair and gestured with his arm at one of the large video screens behind him, mentally bringing it online and patching into a live feed from N!Channel and an interview with Caestus Pax. "I have that loser and his employers gunning for me 24/7. With an enemy like that, do you really think I care about something trivial like your drama queen son?"

"Hey, now," Bob Parr said, "keep this civil. I will admit my boy was out of line, and I even believe that you didn't have your people attack him." He paused to glance at his wife who seemed puzzled at his admission before turning back to David. "But that doesn't change the fact that your employees acted on their own, particularly Kilmarten, and were going out of their way to hurt him."

"Yeah," David conceded, "she's a little impulsive about that, which is why I made damn sure no one told her about it; because I was afraid that she would do something like this."

The angry hostility from Mrs. Kilmarten softened a little bit as she spoke up for the first time. "Then how did she find out about it?"

David grinned sheepishly. "The problem is I was on painkillers that day and hadn't thought things through entirely. One of those things was forgetting how great a hacker Zoe is. Apparently things snowballed from there."

"You could have stopped it," Helen snapped, "but you just let it happen."

David sighed and shook his head again. He was really getting annoyed with Helen's hostile attitude. "No, Mrs. Parr, I didn't just let it happen. In case you didn't notice, something else happened the following day." The video screen on the wall switched to CTV news and coverage of the relief efforts in Mexico City. "Remember this? You know that little major disaster/attack/earthquake just south of the border? And the fact that I was one of the first people NSA Director Dicker called on to provide aid? I'm sure you've heard of it, it's only been in the news for the last week or two. If you're implying that I would do something as petty as arranging a gang style beat down instead of focusing on real problems in the world, then I have to seriously ask you what kind of screwed up reality do you live in?"

Helen suddenly stood up and leaned forward, planting her fists on David's desk. "How dare you-"

David cut the woman off in mid-sentence. "I'm sorry Mrs. Parr, but that death toll in Mexico City is close to one million and I have no clue as to how many more injured. Yeah, I'll admit, I do have issues with your drama queen son, but he's a low priority on list of problems; so low, in fact, that I really don't give a damn about him. The only reason this is becoming an issue is because he attacked me and it caused a nasty reaction from other parties involved. I don't know what your, or his, malfunction is but I want no part of it. As I told your husband and daughter, I'm not my father, but I get the sinking feeling that there's something else going on that I don't know about; but, you know what, that's your problem and none of my damn business so don't try to inflict whatever personal drama you have going onto me." He then took another sip of his mocha as he watched Helen's face purple with rage. She looked like she was going to lunge across the desk, but she suddenly hesitated as he smiled at her again. He could tell from the look in her eyes that his comments hit home and made him wonder if this had anything to do with the "family incident" at the Parr home Violet was being vague about.

_Not that it matters…but it does make sense now. Something's going on._ He put his mocha back on the desk and leaned back in the chair. He knew he shouldn't do this, but he figured it was probably the only way to make his point. "You know," he said, "I owe you an apology, Mr. Parr. I made the mistake of assuming Dash got his temper from you…it looks like I was wrong."

"You bastard," Helen snarled.

"Honey," Bob said, standing up to put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Calm down…he's trying to goad you." He then looked at David. "Don't you think that's enough?"

David shrugged. "Just trying to make a point," he said. "Mrs. Parr, I know you have no good reason to believe me, but I'm not going to waste time trying to convince you that I am not 'Buddy Pine 2.0'. The fact is that your son attacked me and my crew, though misguided, retaliated in kind. As it is, no serious harm was done and I want to nip this in the bud now **before** it actually turns into something really bad."

"Maybe I wouldn't feel that way if I didn't know you had people watching us," Helen snapped as she sat back down in her chair.

David stopped for a moment as he pondered her words. "Hmmm, interesting," he said. "Did Violet tell you about that?"

"No, it was…" Helen stopped when she realized that she was about to say something he shouldn't.

_Now that's interesting,_ David thought. _Violet didn't tell her so that means it has to be someone else who knows. _"So Violet didn't tell you," he said, "that's good…tells me that she can be trusted."

"You had someone watching us?" Bob asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Not all the time, but yeah," David replied. "Utopia had people watching all of you, so I had someone chase them off." He then grinned at Bob. "Do you remember that accident a few weeks back that happened not far from where you met Lucius Best in that park?"

"Yeah, some van flipped over according to some witnesses." Then Bob's eyes widened in realization. "That was you?"

"Not me," David said, "but it was someone working for me. The Utopia agent in the van wasn't killed but all the electronic surveillance gear was fried…Null made sure of that. And then there was that 'peeping tom' incident involving some electronic pervert who was hanging out around your daughter's college dorm. You know…the one who had placed mini cameras throughout the building? It was in the news."

"That was Utopia?"

"Yep…once they got found out, they cut their agent loose. It also didn't help that he actually was a pervert who enjoyed his job too much." David gave them an evil grin. "He's currently in prison, probably being sodomized by some guy named 'Bubba' with a mop stick right now. You don't believe me, check with Dicker and the NSA, they can confirm it."

"You really expect us to believe that?" Helen asked.

"Mrs. Parr, they have your schedule down perfectly. They know that you make a Wal-Mart run usually on Wednesdays. They know when you go to Metro Athletic every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to work out. They know when you take Jack to see his counselor at the NSA building every other Thursday. Thankfully, they haven't been able to breach NSA security to listen on those sessions. And they even know that you go to Safeway for groceries after you pick up Jack. Do you want me to continue?"

Helen's purple rage suddenly went to pasty white as David cited off her daily schedule to her, anger being replaced by shock. "Y-you can't be serious," she finally said.

"I am," David said. This time, he decided to drop the smug attitude towards her. "Like I told your husband after Utopia attacked SST, the 'good 'ol days' of heroes and villains are over. This is a different world than what it was in the past…it's much scarier."

"You don't need to tell us this," Jenny Kilmarten said. "We know this, which is why we put Zoe in Avalon."

"Oh yeah," David said, "cutting her off from a life she pretty much knew…how nice of you."

"It was for her protection," Walter Kilmarten said. "Protection she didn't need until you jeopardized the life we made for her."

"Oh yeah, some life…she was basically a latch-key kid for most of her life because one parent was busy putting away criminals while the other one was busy with her teaching career at some expensive prep school for snobby young supers."

"We tried to give her a normal life," Zoe's father said, glaring at David again.

There was a snicker and everyone turned to see Helen Parr smirking at the Kilmartens. "A normal life, you two? Oh please." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Guess that didn't work out very well, did it? Though it doesn't surprise me she'd follow in her mother's footsteps."

Jenny Kilmarten turned to look at Helen. David wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw electrical sparks in her eyes for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry, Helen," Jenny said. "I suppose if I gave up on having a career and played Desperate Housewife like you, I'm sure my daughter would probably have been a stellar example of the model citizen…just like your son."

_What…the…hell?_

The exchange between the two women had taken David off guard. From the concerned look on the faces of their husbands, David could tell this could get ugly. Part of him found it funny and was tempted to sit back and watch the fight, but the saner part of him knew he had to stop it.

_Yeah...better shut this down now. The last thing I need is two super-powered mothers getting in a fight in my building._

"Oh, a career, Jenny, is that what you call it?" Helen sneered. "And which career would that be? You've had so many…was clothing optional for you?"

_Shit…too late. Wait…what did she say?_

"At least I worked my way through college to improve myself and didn't have anything handed to me on a platter, princess," Jenny shot back.

_Oooh, snappy comeback. _David hated to admit it, but he was kind of enjoying this.

"Oh yeah, you worked your way, alright," Helen said as she started to count off on the fingers of her right hand. "Which paid the most? Was it crime, on a pole, on a stage, or on your back?"

_DAMN!_ David reached into the pocket of his jacket and felt his hand close around the disc-shaped object there.

"Wow, that's kind of cheap shot, Helen. You might need to return to Stepford for more programming. Maybe Bob can trade you in for a more compliant model."

_OH FUCK!_

Both women shot up out of their seats. Sparks were erupting out of Jenny's hands while Helen's arms and body stretched slightly. Their husbands almost immediately jumped up behind them, trying to hold them back.

"Okay," David said, "show's over." He brought the disc out of his coat and slammed it in the middle of his desk, activating the device. There was an amber flash of light that momentarily blinded everyone, but that wasn't the only effect it had. David felt the effect almost immediately because the constant mental buzz of "white noise" in his head stopped.

It took the others a few moments longer to realize what had happened. Jenny realized she was no longer emitting sparks and Helen returned to normal size.

"What did you do?" Bob asked.

David pointed at the disc. "Quantum dampener," he said. "It shuts down the powers of anyone in the area…relax, it's only for a couple minutes."

"You have no right," Walter started to say, but David cut him off.

"Actually," David said, "I do, since it's my building that would be the site of collateral damage and I really can't afford that and the publicity a fight will bring, and neither can you. It's bad enough that Utopia was looking to put a T2M auxiliary team here, you don't need to justify them doing that." He got out of his chair, picked up the quantum dampener off the desk, and put it back in his pocket. "And for the record, Mr. and Mrs. Parr, I had one of these on me when your son attacked me. I didn't use it. If you watched the video from that night, you would have seen that, without your son using his powers, I had the upper hand. He realized that, bitched out, and went super-speed on me because he knew he couldn't win in a fair fight." He walked out from behind his desk and made his way towards the door, but stopped to turn around and face both parents. "Mrs. Parr," he continued, "if I was anything at all like my father, I would have used that device and crippled your son, but I didn't. Unlike your son, I don't abuse my abilities to beat up a victim that can't fight back."

He then looked over at the Kilmartens. "As for you two, you and your daughter need to sort things out. I can understand you being concerned about her safety, but it sounds that you guys were pissed off at me and took it out on her by cutting her off from all her friends and the life she knew with no real explanation other than 'it was for your own good'."

"And I suppose you think it's safe to leave her here with you," Walter said, not even bothering to hide the threatening tone in his voice. "We know how you feel about our daughter."

"That's not up for discussion, right now," David snapped. "I'm eighteen, she isn't. She's not legal. Besides, do you really think Avalon is any safer and than here. Utopia knows about it, and they've known about you for a long time. The only reason they didn't move on you all this time is because they don't want to risk pissing off Dicker and triggering a war with the NSA. If you really think dragging Zoe off to Avalon is going to protect her, or anyone else over there for that matter, you're sadly mistaken. I'm not telling you what to do, but at least talk to your daughter. Despite what you think, she's not some naive little girl anymore; if you're going to make a decision about her life, at least let her have some say in it." He turned around and opened the door, but looked back over his shoulder. "By the way, all four of you are supposed to be the adults here; I'm just a punk kid, I should be hearing the lectures, not giving them. Whatever differences or disagreements you have with each other, you better work them out, because that shit isn't going to matter when the storm hits. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting to keep. The effects of the dampener should be wearing off right about now. Hopefully, you'll all be gone by the time I get back."

He then left the room, closing the door behind him. As he made his way towards the elevator, he could feel the "buzz" return, informing him that his powers were back. He mentally linked to the security camera's to his office and was relieved to see the Parrs and the Kilmartens actually talking to eachother, though it looked like Helen and Jenny were keeping their distance from each other.

_Okay, hopefully things are settled on that end._

David got off the elevator in the main lobby and found Null, Larry, Jake Peters, and Damon Best sitting at one of the tables, looking at some blueprints. Shiro Murakami was hanging upside down off one of the light fixtures above the table, writing something in a notebook and offering the occasional comment on something in the blueprints. "Gentlemen," he said, "what are you up to?"

"Not much," Null replied, "just going over some of the blueprints to BS2 and what kind of security we should add to it. How did the meeting go?"

"Well, let's see, angry parents, snide comments, and veiled threats." David shook his head. "Maybe I should have stayed in Mexico City, I felt safer there."

"Oh yeah," Jake said, rolling his eyes, "you piss off one of the most powerful novas on the planet, thumb your nose at his employers, and think that's a 'safe' environment?"

David chuckled at that and shrugged. "I guess it's all about perspective." He glanced down at his watch for a moment. "Well, I'm outta' here."

"Where are you headed off to?" Larry asked.

"I don't know, I figure I'd go for a walk, clear my head, maybe get a hot dog or something. Null, you're in charge."

The easy-going smile on Null's face vanished as he looked up at David. "You're actually going to go through with it, aren't you?"

"Yep," David said, the expression on his face darkening. "Like I told someone else earlier, I want to nip this in the bud before it gets ugly."

* * *

**_Metro Park_**

**_Metroville, California_**

Dash Parr was not in the best of moods as he walked home. Normally, he would have kicked on the super-speed and been there in seconds, but he didn't feel like it. Then again, the beat-down he took last week at the hand of David Flynn's little band of thugs and Flynn's pink-haired bitch still left its mark on him even though he had physically recovered. It also didn't help that his parents grounded him for it, even going so far as threatening to pull him off the school football team. Then again, in hindsight, he was caught on video beating the crap out of Flynn.

"What were you thinking?" his father asked him. "Were you thinking? Did it occur to you that he could press charges against you?"

"Like they would actually stick," Dash smirked, trying to put on a brave front to his Dad. Honestly, he hadn't thought about the possibility of charges. "I doubt the authorities would prosecute me for beating up on a piece of trash. And for the record, keep in mind that he sent his little gang after me. Don't you think that was overkill?"

"First off, you were in the wrong. And second, I don't think you realize what you might be dealing with." For the first time in almost eight years, Dash saw something in his father's eyes as he spoke; it was fear. "He may be Pine's son, but he's nothing like his father."

"Really, and I suppose you're going to tell me he's actually a nice guy trying to atone for his father's sins…that's a bunch of BS, Dad."

"Actually, I was going to say he's probably much more dangerous." Bob Parr gave Dash a sad look and shook his head. "And what bothers me is that there is far worse out there than him."

Dash shoved that memory away and started a slow jog through the park he had just entered. It was part of his usual route he took home, but he decided to take it at "normal" speed because he was in no hurry to return home where he was pretty much grounded. He figured if he ran at normal speed, he had a little bit more "freedom" before he was locked down for the day.

He was three-quarters of the way through the park when he saw someone sitting on a park bench in a trench-coat and sipping his coffee.

"You gotta' be fucking joking," he snarled at the young man sitting on the bench.

"And hello to you, Parr," David Flynn said, getting up off the bench.

"Did you finally get the balls to face me on your own," Dash sneered, "or do you have your little gang waiting to take me out like last time?"

Instead of answering right away, Flynn swallowed the last of his coffee and tossed the now empty cup into the trash can next to the bench. "Parr, you really need to stop making false assumptions about me," he said. "It makes you look like an even bigger idiot than you are. For what it's worth, I didn't order my crew to beat the crap out of you. I know you don't believe me, but that's your problem not mine." He then gave Dash a smug grin. "Besides, we both know that in a fair fight, I would win but that's not why I'm here."

"Then why are you here? Did you come to gloat? Maybe get some revenge on your own?"

Flynn sighed, looked at the ground for a moment, and shook his head. "Damn, you really are out of your league and you don't even know it." He then looked back up at Dash, a malicious gleam in his eye made his smug grin look a little bit more sinister. "Parr, I'm facing off against novas like Caestus Pax who are capable incinerating me in the blink of an eye. So dealing with an overbearing drama queen like yourself is trivial to me. However, if I was to sink to your level and 'get revenge', it would be more brutal than that little beat-down you went through. And the irony is that you would be physically alive and well, but broken."

"Yeah, right," Dash snorted. Though his voice was full of bravado, he didn't like that evil gleam he saw in Flynn's eyes.

"Let me bounce something off you, Parr," David said. "You are a high-school all-star athlete, you recently got a sports scholarship to UCLA, you are a popular student at MHS and you're pretty much the big man on campus….even you though you're a C+ student and even that's wishful thinking on your part. If I didn't know any better, you probably have someone doing the homework for you or the teachers are letting you slide by because you're the best thing that's happened to your school in some time."

"So?"

"So…here's my little scenario. You know the kind of rumor mill high school can be; hell, I'm sure you've probably circulated some rumors of your own. You certainly look like the type who would do something like that, but I'm getting off track here. Suppose, for a moment, a rumor got circulated at MHS; this rumor gets whispered around that MHS' golden boy, the guy with all the right moves, might have some sort of extra edge."

"If you're thinking of outing me," Dash growled, clenching his fist, "I'll be more than happy to make sure you don't."

Flynn ignored Dash's threat, shaking his head again. "Oh no," he said, "I wouldn't do something as lame as that. I was actually thinking of the rumor being about you possibly taking some sort of performance enhancing supplements or something."

"Well, we both know that's not true."

"Yeah, you're right, but that won't stop someone from finding some of those 'performance enhancers' in your locker or in your gear." Flynn smiled again. "You'd be surprised how many people wouldn't mind breaking into your locker and planting evidence. After all, you bullied a good portion of them and some of them do know how to break into lockers. And, of course, there are those you wouldn't suspect, like your own fellow jocks."

"None of my crew would do that," Dash sneered.

Flynn arched an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked. "I got a question for you, Parr: how many of your fellow members of the order of the sweaty jock-strap did you edge out of a scholarship? And how do you think they would react if they realized their chances of possibly getting to college on that scholarship might be good if their almighty star got taken down in scandal? At the very least, you fall from that little high perch of yours and any one of them would be willing to take your place in the spotlight, especially since you screwed them over by cheating. I'm willing to bet there are a few members in your little clique who wouldn't mind taking down their leader for a chance to be king, right?"

Dash was about to say something in response, but hesitated as the words of David's last comment hit home. Yeah, there were a couple of his 'buddies' who probably would want his spot. "So what," he finally said, "I'm clean."

"Oh, I know that," Flynn said, "but that won't mean they won't test you. But you're right, they'll make you piss in a cup, take a couple blood samples, do whatever else is done for that kind of shit, and you'll pass with clean results. Unfortunately, given the advancement in medicine over the last six years, your blood work indicates some unusual properties, enough to warrant further testing and suddenly…oh my god…it gets revealed that you might be a nova."

"You wouldn't dare."

"It won't be me, Parr, it will be the test."

"The NSA won't let it get that far," Dash said, all trace of confidence gone and replaced by desperation. "My dad is a good friend of Director Dicker."

"Ah yes, Director Richard Dicker." Flynn nodded in agreement. "You're right, he wouldn't dare let that fact get revealed. Although, I doubt he'll do mass memory erasure to make this go away. It would waste resources that he can't afford to spare right now, but he would do some damage control. Unfortunately, for you, Dicker's solution would probably be to the simplest one; by having the results altered so you would test positive for drug use." Flynn gave Dash a somber look. "The local news would have a field day with this, you get stripped of your scholarship, and your social standing that you covet so much would take such a nose dive that even the outcasts of your school will be looking down on you. Nobody likes a fraud, Parr. And when all is said and done, you'll just be a solid C loser whose future will either be community college or manning a drive-thru window and saying 'Would you like fries with that?' But let's be honest, Community College and McDonalds have standards, so I doubt you'll even make it there. Although, I hear Burger King doesn't care what kind of losers they hire." He smiled again, knowing full well his words hit their mark. "That's my way of payback, Dash; leaving you alive and physically unharmed, but emotionally and spiritually crushed, broken, and left to rot with the little people." Flynn then slowly turned to walk away, but looked back over his shoulder. "Just be thankful I don't sink down to your level," he said, "because that's my idea of revenge."

Dash watched Flynn walk away, his clenched fist shaking. It took him a few more seconds to realize that it wasn't just his fist, but his whole body was shaking in a mixture of fear and anger. The whole time, he just wanted to lash out and beat Flynn to a bloody pulp but he knew that would just bring more trouble, probably physical and legal. And while he listened to Flynn, he realized that the bastard was right. Aside from his powers, he had nothing else going for him.

He managed to sit down on the bench and took slow breaths, hoping he could regain his bearings and stop shaking. It took him a couple minutes, but he managed to stop shaking. Unfortunately, it didn't make him feel any better.


	13. When a monster has an epiphany

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does. Don't own the Incredibles, Disney and Pixar do.

Author's Notes: Just a short update here, folks. Don't worry, more to come. Allison Hughes is the metallic manipulator known as Shrapnel from the Teragen in Aberrant. I've already had her show up once in "Awkward Times". I know most of you aren't familiar with Aberrant; but for those of you that are...relax, I'm not "de-fanging" Geryon. He's just going to be a little more focused than he was in canon.

* * *

_"Geryon. There was a time, I've been told, that mere mention of his name struck terror into the hearts of novas and baselines alike. Some of his friends believed he probably would have come to a destructive and messy end all in the name of the cause. Just a rampaging monster terrorist carrying out the Teragen agenda. Well, he still came to a destructive and messy end, but history will forever record him as the hero he truly was. Yes, he was a monster and a terrorist, but he was fighting something much worse than he ever could have been._

_Some say what happened to him in Mexico City on Earth changed him and maybe they're right. Maybe he would have been just a monster terrorist carrying out the Teragen agenda if he hadn't been in Mexico City. Maybe he would have still lived and possibly be alive now._

_But then, I wouldn't be alive now if that had happened. And things probably would have been worse for our race."_

-Morganna "Shockwave" Hughes, Chatterweb Site Entry, Mars. 2041.

* * *

**_Wild Palm Motel_**

**_Los Angeles, California_**

Allison Hughes wrinkled her nose in disgust as the she was overwhelmed by the smells that assaulted her olfactory senses. She would have preferred to be in her nova form, because the burning metallic smell off her metal body would mask the collective smell of the garbage, rotting food, decay, urine and fecal odors that drifted through the rundown motel. However, given that this was the location of a Teragen "safe house", it would be better to not advertise that fact by having nova "terrorist" called Shrapnel stalking around the area.

Originally, she didn't want to come to Los Angeles. As far as she was concerned, the city (as well as the entire state) was still a cesspool despite Utopia's attempts to "green" it up and clean up the environment. In a way, she kind of enjoyed the irony. Yes, Utopia did make some improvements to the famed "City of Angels", but only to parts they cared about. A good portion of the inner-city was still a toilet. Allison would have been perfectly happy to just hang out in Ibiza at Orzaiz' estate while the inner circle discussed the next course of action they should take. For some reason, Mal had been absent, but Scripture, Mal's confidante was there. Though he didn't possess Mal's power, Jeremiah Scripture had a sense of presence that demanded respect from all faction members in the Teragen. Very few questioned his advice or observations even though he held no real position of authority within the group and many faction leaders carefully considered his words because he was a very intelligent and insightful man.

So when Scripture informed everyone that Geryon had been located, no one doubted him. What puzzled her, however, was that Geryon had requested her to come get him. She also found it odd that Scripture had pulled her aside to privately talk to her about it.

"Something is wrong, Shrapnel," he said to her.

"How so?" she asked him.

"He didn't sound like himself when he contacted us."

"Well, he was at ground zero when everything went to hell, that's to be expected." Despite her words, Allison didn't completely believe them herself. Geryon was one of the more "die-hard" members of the Teragen. In Allison's opinion, Geryon was the kind of person who would willingly step into the heart of the disaster and revel in it, perhaps even be the cause of it.

Scripture shook his head, as if he were reading her mind. His next words almost made Allison wonder if he could read minds. "You know that's not true with Geryon," he said. "Under normal circumstances, he would step into the heart of the storm. But this…this is different. He sounded…tired."

The man's use of the word "tired" caught Allison's attention because he didn't like the implication. "You mean 'broken', don't you?"

Scripture nodded.

"No," Allison said, shaking her head, "not Geryon. He may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he's a rock."

"Perhaps," Scripture said, "but why did he request you to retrieve him from one of our safe houses in Los Angeles?"

"Why not me?" Allison laughed. "He knows I can't stand LA, it's probably him just being an ass."

"No, Allison, you don't understand," Scripture said. "He asked for you, 'Allison Hughes', not 'Shrapnel'. And he also requested that you meet him at one of our safe houses used by those who can pass as baselines."

Now that was something to be concerned about. Geryon, like Allison, preferred to use his "true" name as opposed to his given "baseline" identity. Even when he wasn't out on a mission, Geryon was almost always "powered up" and in his monstrous form. The only time he ever "dormed down" to his baseline form was when he was either really exhausted or using his human form to elude detection by various law enforcement personnel.

And so, here she was, one day later, in her human form walking down the one of the hallways of this run down motel. Like Geryon, she preferred her metallic nova form over her flesh and blood human body. She stopped in front of room 413 and knocked on the door.

And knocked again.

Again.

She was about to start pounding on the door when she heard someone move. "Hold on a sheckon," she heard someone say followed by the sound of someone stumbling. "Oh…bloody hell…someone put the floor in fron' o' me." A couple seconds later, the door opened and the strong smell of alcohol overwhelmed Allison's senses.

"What the hell, Geryon?" Allison stared at the skinny man with short curly blond hair wearing a pair of worn out jeans. He reeked of alcohol, mostly whiskey, and he was clutching a bottle of Jack Daniels. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"Oh, hey, Ally…c'mon in," slurred the young man as he staggered backwards a couple steps and gestured for her to come in.

Reluctantly, Allison entered the room and closed the door behind her. She could see at least a dozen empty bottles on the floor along with several empty beer cans. "Geryon, what's going on?" she asked. Then she stopped and watched in disbelief as the man she knew as Geryon, one of the most feared novas in the Teragen, slammed back the bottle of Jack Daniels and gulped down the half-full bottle's contents.

The man suddenly stumbled backwards, half-spinning before collapsing onto the bed, which had several empty Corona bottles on it. "Whoa," he said, "I think I finally lost feeling in my legs."

Allison still couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Geryon…are you drunk?"

Geryon raised his right hand, his index finger raised. "Got it in one, Ally Cat…but call me James…or Jimmy….or…call me whatever you want…'cept Geryon…he's not here right now. He can't get drunk…but I can." Then the glassy look in his eyes faded and, for a moment, his expression became lucid and clear. "At least for a little bit," he said, his voice taking a bitter tone. "Even dormed down, the effect won't last."

"Ger-" Allison hesitated and decided to humor him. "James, what happened? Are you all right?"

"Oh yeah," James said as he grabbed an unopened can of beer. He popped it open and took a gulp. "I'm fine…for someone who watched himself almost die." He then half-propped himself up on the bed, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, it's kind of ironic, don't you think?"

James's sudden change from drunk to semi-coherent startled her, but Allison was intrigued to hear the normally loud and foul-mouthed Geryon go philosophical. "What is?" she asked.

"Us," James said, gesturing with his arm, "Novas, the so called new species, evolutionary step, the ubermensch, or whatever the fuck some science bloke comes up with. Hell, Mal would like us to believe we're gods or something." He paused for a moment, contemplating that thought. "Well, maybe some are, but not all of us; he would definitely fall into that category, I guess. Those poor Team Tomorrow bastards weren't…they were just lambs to the fuckin' slaughter."

Now Allison was really concerned. It was not like Geryon to have any feelings for Project Utopia's superhero team other than disgust or just outright hostility. "James," she said softly as she watched him gulp down the rest of the beer. "What are you talking about?"

He looked at her for a moment and shook his head, giving her a sad smile. "Ally, you ever read Nietzsche? Remember that little thing he wrote about looking into the Abyss and the Abyss looking back into you?"

Allison nodded.

"Well," James continued, "given what we are, I can say we've all looked into the abyss, some of us danced around it, others had the balls to laugh at it. Hell, I even pissed in it a couple times." He looked down at the bed for a moment before looking back up at her, a haunted look in his eyes. "I didn't expect the creature living in it to rear its ugly head, chew some of us up, and spit me back out."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes. Allison studied the man, noticing several scars on his chest.

_Those should not be there and he didn't have them before. His powers should have healed him to the point that he wouldn't have any scars in his baseline form. He must have been severely injured in his nova state._ She managed to suppress a shudder at that thought. The concept that there was something out there that could inflict that kind of damage, both physical and obviously emotional, on someone like Geryon scared her. _But what did this?_

"It's funny," James finally said, breaking the silence, "how everyone breaks things down into 'good' and 'evil'. Some people would say Utopia and Team Tomorrow are the 'good guys', we're 'the bad guys' and vice versa. I'll admit I don't see things that way and, while I know the cause is good, I've done some things that some would call 'evil', but I wouldn't hesitate to do them again if I were thrown in a similar situation in the future. And while those idiots in Team Tomorrow are glorified servants for Utopia, I wouldn't dream of killing them. Injuring them or maiming them, yes, but I wouldn't just kill them in cold blood. And yeah, I've killed baselines, but only targeted those who were a threat and anyone dumb enough to try to protect them. I never go killing monkeys for shits and grins."

The look on the man's face said it all. Allison, having served in combat situations before, recognized it as one who seen true horror in a war, horror that had a fifty percent of breaking even the most hardened of soldiers. This time, there was no hesitation. "James, tell me…what happened?"

James reached over, grabbed another bottle of Corona, took a gulp, and then leaned back against the wall behind his bed. "I saw evil, Ally," he replied, "evil in its most pure form. I mean the media paints people like you and me as monsters and, let's be honest, we sometimes play into it and I'll even admit to having a little fun with that image." He sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging slightly. "But this bloke…this Gabriel…this fucker is the real deal, Allison. He slaughtered T2M as if they were nothing and he didn't give a shit about the monkeys either. It's as if…" he looked up at her again, "…as if he just wanted to see the world burn and dance around it." He took another sip from the bottle. "Y'know, we've always talked about how there's the possibility of war between us and the baselines, right?"

"Yes, if you talk to The Mathematician, he would say it's inevitable."

James gave Allison a derisive snort. "Yeah," he said, his voice dripping with disgust, "Pedro and his equations of probability and all that shit. I don't even think Pedro saw this coming. There's a war comin' alright…but this is somethin' bigger than that…I…shit…I dunno', Ally, but I get the awful feelin' that Mexico City was just an opening salvo."

"Then tell the others when we get back," Allison said.

James shook his head again. "No, I'm not going back."

"What?" Allison couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You have to come back, especially if what you said is true. The others need to know."

"Yeah, the others," James laughed bitterly. "With Mal missing and Scripture calling the shots, we're just a bunch of factions. No offense towards Scripture, but he's not exactly a great unifier like Mal."

"If you return with me and tell them what you know, this could bring them all together."

"Do you really think so, Ally? Because the last time I checked, we had Pedro, Orzaiz, Zia, Malik, and Confederate pushing their respective factions' agendas and tryin' to guide the rest of the Teragen to follow their path."

Allison smirked at him. "The same could be said of you and your crew."

"True," James said nodding in agreement, "and that's part of why I'm not going back with you. There's something else, something that Gabriel mentioned and I want to follow up on it."

"Then where are you going?"

"North to Metroville, there's someone I need to talk to."

Allison was about to say something when her cell-phone went off. "Yes?"

"Allison," it was Orzaiz and he didn't sound like his usual pompous self, "have you made contact with Geryon?"

Allison wrinkled her nose in disgust at the smell of alcohol in the room. "Oh, I found him, alright," she said, "and he's doing his damndest to get drunk."

"Do you happen to have a television set nearby?"

"Yeah," she replied looking at the small TV sitting on a table against the wall across from James' bed.

"You might want to turn it on any news outlet."

"Okay." Allison did as she told, ignoring the strange look she got from James. "And what exactly am I looking for?" she asked.

The set flickered to life, showing what appeared to be grainy video footage. The voice of a reporter could be heard narrating in the background. "This footage was recently leaked out on the net, but was altered in such a way that the speaker's facial features could not be made out despite attempts by Utopia, Interpol, and various other law enforcement agencies. Please be advised the audio you're about to hear may be offensive to some viewers."

Allison saw a pixelated figure standing on a stage and addressing a crowded auditorium. She could tell that it was a man, but the distortion made it impossible to get a good look at his face. "Never mind," Allison said to Orzaiz before closing the phone.

_"But now,"_ the unidentified man said in a somber tone, _"the enemy knows they are being targeted. They know that we have declared war on them and they also realize that while we may pose the threat, they still wield greater power, because most of the world is asleep and willing to let them control it. Very soon, in fact, I'm guessing maybe within minutes of this little gathering being mentioned, the world media sucking up to Utopia will portray us as the 'evil enemy', as hate-mongers, as something that needs to be dealt with. And you can bet that Utopia and its puppets in the United Nations will pressure people in our own government and the rest of our country to rise against us because 'it is the right and just thing to do'."_

James sat up in his bed, his attention now focused on the set. "It's him," he said.

_"Against you,"_ the speaker continued, _"good people who have lost their jobs because Project Utopia deemed what they do as being 'not friendly to the environment'."_

Allison watched as the man began to start pointing randomly at various people in the crowd, becoming more riled up as he continued his speech, the gathered baselines cheering him on.

_"Against you, good people who lost their jobs because a single Utopia backed nova can do the work of twelve 'baseline' human beings. Against you, and you, and you, and you, good people who don't live in the big Utopia sponsored cities and prefer to work instead of being lazy and letting Utopia determine what you do, what you believe, and how you and your children should live."_

Now the people in the auditorium were roaring their approval as the man strutted across the stage, shouting and pointing. _ "Against you! Good people who see the devil's own for what they are and are willing to make a stand!" _

The footage then paused, freezing in a digital window that then shrank into a background image behind the news reporter. "Though we are not certain exactly when this footage was taken, we do know that it was in the last three days. The man calls himself Gabriel and, according to Interpol and Utopia agents monitoring net traffic, he is affiliated with the anti-nova group known as The Church of Michael Archangel. N!Channel recently tried to contact one of the leaders of the the extremist group, but they were unavailable for comment-"

The television set suddenly exploded as a large whiskey bottle smashed into it, causing Allison to jump. She turned and saw James glaring angrily at the burning remains of the device.

"Church of Michael," James snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "I should have known." He got up off the bed and looked at Allison. "You should go, Ally," he said. "Tell Orzaiz and the others that things have changed."


	14. And the world still turns and burns

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Pixar does. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Really glad this fic is mostly under the radar of most people.

Author's Notes: The "Mid-Season" Hiatus is over. I am now resuming work on this crazy monster. Still can't believe that I only started this thing a couple years ago as a joke and now...wow. As always, I want to thank the usual suspects: Shannon K, Nullchronicler, Pegasuscrystal, the Plothook crew, and everyone else I might have forgotten.

Walker of the Wheel, I hope you don't mind where I'm taking a certain character. It's just that he's got a lot of damn potential.

* * *

"_Even though it's been a few weeks since the tragedy that hit Mexico City, there are still more questions than answers. Though the Church of Michael has not claimed responsibility, the man calling himself Gabriel has openly affiliated himself with the group. We have footage of this individual speaking at a Michaelite rally being held at an undisclosed location and claiming responsibility. We apologize for the video quality as it appears to have been partially scrambled by an unknown..."_

-ABC News

"_Witnesses had confirmed that the Teragen nova known as Geryon was at Mexico City when Gabriel attacked. Several accounts had the nova terrorist fighting Gabriel after Gabriel had slaughtered all members of Team Tomorrow's Americas cell. It is ironic that one seen as a monster by many in the public might have perished while trying to stop another monster."_

-CTV News

"_In a statement released at a press conference outside his residence in Ibiza, Spain, Teragen spokesman Count Raoul Orzaiz told reporters that members of the Teragen are helping go through remains of the city center, providing humanitarian relief while looking for their fallen comrade. Though some with the Utopia task force are less than enthusiastic at this development, it cannot be denied that the Teragen novas have done a lot to help with the rescue and relief effort. Camp Makeshift, originally started by SST founder and CEO David Flynn now has a fully functioning pre-fabricated hospital manned by trained medical personnel while the Project Utopia emergency site is still at least a couple weeks behind. Needless to say, this has become something of an embarrassment to Utopia which has run into its share of negative press brought on by what some have perceived as slowness on their part in response to the crisis."_

-BBC News

"_I'm getting sick and tired of all this Utopia bashing. Although, I have to give David Flynn credit. He's very adept at manipulating people. He's not in Mexico City anymore because he got his precious face time in the public. But he's paid enough people to keep portraying Utopia in a bad light and that's wrong."_

-Chris Matthews MSNBC, Hardball with Chris Matthews

"_Chris Matthews, like Brandi Miller, really needs to stop obsessing about me. I have a deep fear of crazy old farts who can't control their bodily functions and piss themselves every time someone from Utopia gives a speech or grants him an interview. I'm almost tempted to send him a year's supply of Depends...I could always put it down as a tax write-off for charity."_

-David Flynn in an interview with CBC's Rick Mercer on "The Mercer Report"

* * *

**The Electric Grill Diner**

**Metroville, California**

**26 October 2006**

**0800 HRS**

Bob sipped his coffee as he picked up the newspaper and read the front page. In the past, he used to just skip ahead to the sports section, but that changed in the last few months when David Flynn showed up in their lives and knocked their world on its ear. Since this last summer, Bob learned more in the last three months alone than in his entire thirty years as a super. It was bad enough to learn some horrifying truths from David Flynn, but it didn't help that Flynn's stories were confirmed by Dicker and the NSA.

"_Damn you, Rick. You knew about this all along and didn't bother telling us, why?"_

"_And what would you have done, Bob? In case you haven't noticed, the world changed and, despite public perception, it's not for the better. Galatea, or something worse, would have happened even if the incident with Buddy Pine hadn't occurred. If anything, that probably had them move the time table up. And if you had known and tried to stop them, they would have killed you, your family and probably gone ahead with their plans anyway. They just didn't count on their plans being foiled and their toy exploding."_

"_And the kid…this David Pine Flynn. You knew about him these last eight years?"_

"_We found him on the island after your battle with Syndrome. What do you think I should have done with the boy, Bob? There were people who wanted him because of what he was. Sure, he might have just been a ten year old boy in a vat, but he deserved better than to be studied and dissected which is exactly what Aeon would have done if I had turned him over to them."_

That conversation haunted Bob ever since he confronted Dicker with some of the data Flynn had given him. It made him sick to his stomach and more than a little angry at the thought that most of this crap was happening "behind the scenes" and there was nothing he or any other super could do about it. Since then, he had talked to Lucius and some of the other "old guard" supers. Sadly, there weren't that many left of the "old guard" since Buddy Pine had murdered most of them.

He set his coffee down after taking another sip and checked his watch. Lucius was going to be showing up in fifteen minutes so Bob put down the paper to pick up the menu. That was when he saw the man sitting at the other side of the table.

"Hello, Mr. Parr." There was the hint of an accent to the man's voice, possibly British but Bob wasn't sure. He appeared to be in his early thirties, had brown hair, was wearing a regular button up-shirt and leather jacket, and looked like somebody Bob would pass on the street; an unassuming individual that would be dismissed and not remembered.

_Except that unassuming individual slipped into the booth and I didn't sense him or feel any movement from the floor or table when he sat down._

Bob kept his cool, calmly reaching for his coffee while preparing to react to any attack. "And who are you?" he asked before taking a sip of his coffee. "And what do you want?"

To his surprise, the other man chuckled. "Wow," he said, keeping his voice low so it couldn't be heard outside the booth. "Here you are, looking all casual and putting on a facade for the baselines, but you're getting ready to strike because you see me as a possible threat. Good instincts and, for someone who's semi-retired from that kind of stuff, that's bloody impressive." His smile faded and he became more serious. "Fine, I'll get to the point. Just call me Booth, and before you freak out and toss me out the window, I'll level with you; I know who you and your family are and I really don't give a damn about that. Don't bother lying to me because I don't have time to beat around proverbial bush. As for what I want, I just want some information."

Again, Bob was surprised. He was expecting veiled conversations and a subtle threat, not a straightforward approach. "Okay," he said, still on his guard, but setting the coffee cup back down. "I appreciate the bluntness, so what do you want from me?"

"Zero Point Technology."

Bob froze for a moment, fear momentarily gripping him as he flashed back to eight years ago where he first fought Buddy Pine.

"_Zero Point Technology…I saved the best stuff for myself."_

Bob shoved that memory aside and looked back at Booth. "What about it?"

"Having been on the receiving end of it and seen it used to kill an entire team of novas, I can tell you that it's nasty shit." Booth leaned forward slightly. "And while this bastard calling himself Gabriel tossed me around like a damn rag doll, he mentioned how he last used this technology fighting you."

_No…that's not possible._

Bob was about to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped when he realized that his hand was shaking. "No way," he said, "only one person had that kind of tech, and he's dead."

"Who's dead?" Booth asked.

"Syndrome," Bob said. Even saying the name still brought back some flashbacks. "Buddy Pine."

"Pine? As in David Pine Flynn's father?" Booth leaned back in his seat, a thoughtful look on his face. "Then I guess it makes sense then that David Flynn would have something like that with him when he was using it to help clear out the rubble."

Bob's eyes narrowed at that revelation. "He was using his father's technology?" Bob growled.

Booth laughed and shook his head. "Not even close. The get up he was wearing looked like something of a cheesy 80s sci-fi movie and I think he electrocuted himself a couple times when he used it." Then he became more somber. "But the shit Gabriel had…I watched him use that stuff to rip a nova in half. At first, I suspected Flynn possibly being Gabriel, but I have proof that he was not involved in that."

"As I said, Buddy Pine was the only one who had that kind of technology, and he's dead." Bob wasn't sure if he was saying that just to make a point or to convince himself that it was true.

"Yeah? Well, if that's the case, somebody got into Buddy Pine's toy box, and weaponized it even further."

"It's not possible, he's dead."

"You said that a few times just in the last couple minutes alone, Mr. Parr. Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself?"

"I watched him die," Bob said softly. "You don't come back from being sucked into a jet engine and being blown to smithereens."

"Y'know, if this were a comic book or a movie, I disagree. Hell, there are some novas in the real world that can survive that and complain about ruining their favorite shirt in the process."

"But Buddy Pine wasn't a super like us." Bob refused to use the term "nova" which seemed to apply to those supers who acquired their powers after the Galatea incident, even if the "supers" of yesterday and the novas of today were the same thing.

"Are you sure, Mr. Parr?"

"Buddy Pine was just a little punk kid who had a bright mind, an overactive imagination, and severe personal issues. He was not one of us. He made gadgets that…" Bob stopped in mid-sentence as he remembered that fateful day twenty-three years ago when he ran into a then ten year old Buddy Pine showing off his "boot jets". Back in the day, Bob just thought it was stupid…a little kid fiddling with technology just to be his sidekick. That's when the thought hit him.

_How many ten year old kids were capable of creating something that could make themselves fly?_

Back then, there was a misperception that supers were beings who displayed very unusual abilities. Abilities like flight, super-strength, energy projection, animal like abilities, or extreme body alteration (like being able to stretch, shape-shift, or change color) were the norm. No one considered intelligence a super ability; even someone like Einstein wasn't considered a super.

_But a ten year old kid who built things from scratch and eventually developed various forms of weapon technology within a span of fifteen years…today, they would call that mega-intelligence. Oh god…what have I done? I'm the one who ultimately created him and this mess._

"Mr. Parr, are you alright?" Booth asked, interrupting Bob's thoughts.

"Um, yes," Bob lied, pausing to take another sip of his coffee, "just dealing with some bad memories."

"I know that look, Mr. Parr," Booth said, giving Bob a sad smile. "It sucks dealing with them, doesn't it?"

"Dealing with what?"

"Ghosts from the past, demons that plague us long after we fought them and thought them dead and buried by the passage of time; I've had my share of that crap recently as well." Booth leaned forward again. "This may or may not be Buddy Pine, but let's say just for the sake of argument it isn't. That leaves the other question; who, besides David Flynn, would have access to Mr. Pine's toy box?"

Bob remembered the data he saw on that flash drive, some very familiar designs and technology Pine had developed that Utopia was secretly working on. "Utopia," he said. "They have some of his technology."

"And how would you know this?"

"Flynn…he showed me some files and I confirmed that information with…" Bob hesitated for a moment, "my contact in the NSA."

"Your contact," The younger man softly chuckled, giving Bob a knowing smile. "You mean Richard Dicker, don't you?"

That caught Bob by surprise. "How did you know?"

"C'mon, Mr. Parr, Dicker's a damn legend in our community. Even my associates know and fear him even though we aren't affiliated with him." Booth shook his head. "Richard Dicker may just be a 'baseline', but among monkeys he would be King Kong with Sun Tzu's brain; definitely not someone I want to mess with. I don't suppose you could arrange a meeting with him, could you?"

"I could," Bob replied, "but I'm not sure that would go well."

Booth thought about that for a moment and nodded in agreement. "You're probably right, especially if the stories I heard about him are true." He then got up from the table and extended his hand to Bob who hesitantly shook it. "Thank you for your time and honesty, Mr. Parr. You told me what I needed to know."

"Wait," Bob said, only slightly tightening his grip with a hint of super-strength on Booth's hand so he couldn't slip away. "Who are you, really?"

Booth looked down at his hand for a moment then looked back at Bob, giving him a grin as he calmly pulled his hand out of Bob's iron grip. "Just a ghost, Mr. Parr," he replied, giving Bob a wink, "a ghost digging through the past and hunting other ghosts that, hopefully, are still dead." He then turned and walked away, making his way towards the entrance of the diner that opened up to reveal Lucius Best walking in. "Excuse me, Mr. Best," he said as he passed by Lucius.

"Hey, no problem," Lucius said absentmindedly to the man who brush passed him. He made is way to the table and sat down across from Bob. "Sorry, I'm late," he said. "There was something up with all the traffic signals on the way here. They had the cops coming out do direct traffic because the power went down for a couple blocks around where we live."

"You don't say," Bob said, still staring at the front door of the diner before realizing that he was holding something in his hand. He looked down and saw a half-crumpled business card in his palm. Booth must have slipped it to him in the handshake. He straightened out the card and read the front of it. "Pandemonium Productions."

"Hey, I know them," Lucius said as he picked up the menu. "They're some kind of entertainment company specializing in merchandise and media stuff like Novation but not as big. My nephew helped design the set on one of their films a year ago. They paid him good money too for a low budget film production."

"Hmm..interesting," Bob said. He read the information that had an address and phone number, but what intrigued him was on the other side when he flipped it to reveal a hand written note that said it all.

_**We owe you. Call it only when you really need it.**_

Instead of a signature, there was the number zero with a line drawn through it. Bob's eyes widened when he recognized the logo.

_Oh my god…_

Thankfully, he was able to keep his composure in front of Lucius and put the card in his pocket while his friend flagged down a waitress to order breakfast. It was just as well that Lucius was focused more on breakfast than the business card.

After all, it wasn't every day the Teragen contacted someone and told them that they owed them a favor.

* * *

**Barton, Texas**

**26 October 2006**

**1400 HRS **

Buddy Pine smiled as he clicked the remote and flipped through the various channels on the television. Even though it had only been a few weeks, he thought it was amusing how quickly the various networks had downplayed what they were now referring to as "The Tragic Incident" at Mexico City. Hell, even the scrambled footage he allowed leaked of his speech at the Michaelite gathering wasn't aired anymore. At best, the networks simply painted Gabriel as 'the worst of the extremists' or, at worst, 'just another whack job that will be dealt with by Pax and crew'.

He leaned back in a large chair and started munching on a bacon cheeseburger (something he really missed while he was locked away at C-12 Neptune) while he watched Brandi Miller, well known pro-Utopia advocate and radio talk show host on Air America Radio, give N!Channel News her opinion.

"What happened in Mexico City was a tragedy," she said, "but that's what you get when you have some psycho out there with unchecked technology. If the developed countries simply embraced progress and used their heads, they would submit to the Utopia Sci-Tech protocols completely and people like this Gabriel wouldn't have been able to do things like that. I mean, hell, just up across the border in California we got that little bastard David Flynn developing new technology and he's practically offering to sell it to the highest bidder."

While it was obvious the N!Channel anchor did agree with Miller, he did at least try to be objective. "Don't you think that's a harsh assessment, Brandi? After all, David Flynn has only recently announced a couple technological developments and their most recent product was aimed at the entertainment industry. That could hardly be considered a possible threat."

"Don't forget whose son he is, Marshall," Brandi countered. "Yeah, he just unveiled the game console system his company was working on and announced that it will be hitting the market soon. That little bombshell alone has companies like Viasoft and Sony scrambling for cover. While that's good and it might convince those two greedy bastards to lower their prices, let's not forget some of the other stuff Flynn is up to. He was down in Mexico City and eyewitness accounts have seen him using some sort of get-up that allowed him to move rubble around with this funky blue energy."

Almost on cue, a small window appeared on the screen playing footage from a couple weeks earlier showing David Flynn wearing some weird high-tech backpack and wearing oversized gauntlets that generated a familiar light blue field of energy that Buddy knew all too well.

Buddy actually raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Well, I'll be damned, kiddo," he chuckled, "you're already creating your own prototype. I'm impressed." A beep informed him that he had a visitor outside. He hit mute button and turned his attention to the row of security monitors sitting on a table. A scowling Theobald Horton and a couple of his thugs could be seen standing outside the cargo bay door of the small warehouse he was in.

_Ah, the gorilla and thugs are on time._

He waited a couple seconds before getting up out of his chair and tapping another button on the remote that opened the cargo bay door.

_Okay, this guy might be a hot-headed asshole, but he and his crew are useful tools and they'll be discarded soon. I just have to make the sale._

He finished off his burger and then walked through the dimly lit warehouse towards the cargo bay. "Gentlemen," he said, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "Welcome to my current humble abode."

"Can the damn theatrics, Gabriel," Horton snapped. "You're not grandstanding for the masses here so let's cut the bullshit."

Buddy frowned at the man, his voice taking on a hurt tone. "Aw, Theo, I think you hurt my feelings." Then his mouth broke into a wicked grin. "Is that anyway to talk to somebody who just killed a bunch of people for you and your cause?"

"We never asked you to."

"And yet I don't hear Piper or the others complaining too much." Buddy paused to let that sink in. "After all," he added, "when you kill the devil's children, it's only fitting to also kill those that worship them." He studied the reaction of three men. One of Horton's thugs showed a hint of fear, the other actually nodded in agreement, but Horton just rolled his eyes.

"Just tell us why you called us out here to this abandoned warehouse and why you wasted our manpower and resources last week to hijack those two Arasaka trucks."

"Actually, I was wasting YOUR manpower and resources, Horton, because I required ruthless bastards for the job and your people fit the bill." He then turned and motioned Horton and his men to follow. "Besides, you did all the work; you should be allowed to see what toys you will be playing with."

"We don't need computers and fancy gizmos, Gabriel."

"True," Buddy admitted, "that kind of stuff is obviously too complex for you…BUT…" He pointed the remote at another corner of the warehouse, activating the lights in that area. The sound of servomotors and machinery echoed through the place. "Even a rage-filled mouth-breather such as yourself could appreciate this."

Horton was livid with anger. It was no secret he didn't like Gabriel, but he was not about to sit by and let this idiot talk down to him. "Okay, that's it; I've had enough with…" He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw what was standing in front of them. "Oh…my…god…."

The machine, if you could call it that, stood about twenty feet feet tall and resembled a spider though it only had four legs. Its main body hung low to the ground, suspended in the air by its legs. A circular pane of glass with a glowing red light behind it was at the front of the body. Underneath was a low hanging cannon that was almost as long as the main body. On each side was a heavy caliber machine gun.

"Gentlemen," Buddy said as he walked in front of the thing and turned to face the three men. The red eye seemed to follow and track his movement as he spoke. "I give you Arasaka's latest attempt to bastardize some of Utopia's secret toy stash." He didn't bother mentioning that Utopia ripped off his Omni-Droid design to begin with before Arasaka stole it; however, he did like this smaller and sleeker version of it...it almost had an "anime" look to it that he enjoyed. "Behold the Dagger Assault Vehichle...or DAV for short. Hey, I didn't choose the name, those bastards at Arasaka did." He walked between the machine's legs, reaching up to almost lovingly run a finger along the barrel of the main gun. "What he got here is a fully maneuverable, easily adaptable, and all-around kick-ass piece of mechanical engineering with a high-velocity tri-barrel rail cannon and two...that's right...two heavy caliber machine guns for support. The machine guns are just .50 caliber but the ammo is eumetal shells with a quantech alloy core. In other words, they will rip through a tank like fucking tissue paper." He then patted the main cannon with his hand. "And then you have this baby who fires similar rounds but at a higher rate and at triple the velocity."

Despite his hostility, even Horton couldn't help being impressed at the metal death machine standing before him. "Gabriel," he said, pausing for a moment to look at the DAV's main weapon, "you mean to tell me that this device is fully operational?"

"Yep." Buddy grinned and then walked over to a nearby table, motioning for Horton and the other others to follow. "And this," he said reaching for a small laptop and tapping on some keys, "is the controller." He then frowned as he looked up at Horton. "Oh yes, I for got, you have no need for computers and gizmos…as you so aptly put it. Never mind then, perhaps I should have contacted Torano or Brother Milo."

"Oh no," Horton said, trying not to sound like he was backpedalling. He still thought of Gabriel as a pompous jack-ass, but he knew he would be foolish to turn down something like this. "I assume you will show us how to operate this thing and test it?"

"Of course," Buddy said, trying his best to sound as accommodating as possible, but he knew that he didn't want to lay it on too thick or Horton would suspect something. "I'm assuming your crew does know how to actually read and push buttons on a keyboard," he sneered.

"Careful, Gabriel," Horton snapped, "keep underestimating me and you will find me a very dangerous enemy within the movement. You are a weapons designer and may have one Piper's approval, but don't expect me blindly trust you."

_Too late for that, Horton._ Buddy gave the older man a tiny smile. _You may not trust me, but I can already tell that you want this DAV like a dog eyeballing a steak. _"A blunt and honest approach," he said, "I can at least respect that."

"So, this DAV was in one of the trucks we heisted; what was in the other one?"

Again, Buddy motioned for the three men to follow him to where the other 18-wheeler was parked and opened the back doors to the trailer. "More gizmos and stuff, Theo," Buddy smirked, "but stuff you can appreciate."

Horton bit back the comment he was going to throw back when he saw the assorted crates and some of the weapons sitting along side them. "What the hell was Arasaka doing shipping this kind of hardware in the states?" he asked.

"Oh, c'mon, Theo," Buddy chuckled. "Think about it, Arasaka is one the largest international corporations based out of Japan and is one of the key front companies for the Nakato. Aside from trying to business with you, they already supply heavy anti-nova ordinance to various outfits like the Cartel in South America, the Heaven's Thunder Triad in Asia, the Camparelli-Zhukov Syndicate in the US and Europe, and I even hear they even had dealings with the Spangler Posse in LA." He laughed and shook his head. "Their initial deal with you was just expanding their market and they would have sold you shit and charged you double for it."

"And how is dealing with you any different?" Horton asked. "You had us steal their products."

"Yes, I am currently fixing their screw-ups and making sure their crap works properly. Luckily, the weapons on this rig are fairly straightforward, but the load-out they originally had on that DAV over there was pathetic compared to the stuff I have on it now." Buddy glanced back at the DAV which had crouched down and gone into stand-by mode. "The only thing I couldn't adjust was the damn power-core on the thing because I don't have the equipment I need to fix that shit."

Horton's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know so much about this equipment Gabriel?"

Buddy hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how much of truth he should put in the lie he was about to tell Horton, but the other man beat him to it.

"You used to work for them, didn't you?" Horton asked with a hint of arrogance in his voice at the fact that he figured something out about the "enigmatic Gabriel".

Buddy gave Horton the best angry glare he could conjure up and then finally slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Fine," he half-growled, "yeah, I used to work for them. I was one of their best engineers, but I was never respected enough because I was a _gaijin,_ an outsider, not one of them. I was an American, but not one of the dumb, ignorant, and lazy tubs of lard they seem to think that makes up ninety-eight percent of the population in US." He paused for a moment, allowing a look of disgust to form on his face. "And then the UN allowed Project Utopia's Sci-Tech division to come down and start policing certain companies that produced 'dangerous tech', especially if that tech could take down a nova. They needed a fucking fall-guy and guess who got nailed? ME!" Buddy shouted that last word with so much anger in it that he actually caused Horton and the other two men to jump. He could feel his body shaking from the effort it took to keep from laughing at the lie he was telling. However, to the others, it probably looked like he was livid with rage.

_And now, here comes the part where I throw a little bit of truth in the lie._

"And so," he continued, "Utopia grabbed me, charged me with the crime of producing weapons of mass destruction, locked me away in one of their secret facilities, erased my very existence from the public, and forced me to produce a good number of 'advancements' they claimed to have 'discovered' or are sitting on to use when they deem the time is right. The Nakato used me as their fall guy and used designs I had created to make their own inferior versions to sell on the black market while Utopia used me to give them the technological edge." He then allowed himself a cold chuckle that echoed through the warehouse as he looked back to Horton. "So believe me, Theo, when I tell you that getting payback on my enemies and making them burn is the only thing I have to live for and it just so happens we're going the same direction."

After he finished his little tirade, he stared at Horton, studying the man's reaction. If Horton acted unfavorably, or just became outright hostile, the DAV would kill Horton and his two companions. But Buddy was certain he had this man figured out, and the smirk on Horton's face confirmed it.

"Well, I'll be damned," Horton chuckled, "so the great Gabriel is human after all." Then he nodded in approval. "I can see why you keep that rage bottled up, boy. And I have to admit that at least you found a decent outlet for it."

Buddy let out a slow breath and glared at him. "Killing the false gods, their masters, and all those who worship them…it's pretty much all I got."

"The good Lord works in mysterious ways, kid," Horton said. "You may be a pompous and arrogant jackass, but at least your anger is righteous and I can respect that." He extended his hand to Gabriel who hesitated a moment before he took it.

Buddy, for his part, managed to hide his amusement as he shook Horton's hand. _Amazing,_ he thought. _It truly is amazing how gullible these sheep really are and how easy even the most volatile of them will fall for an intricate sob story._ However, he kept his expression even and nodded. "Well then," he said, "I guess all that remains now is to test this stuff and pack it up for your crew."

As he led them back to where the DAV was sitting, Buddy allowed himself big grin.

_Lambs to the slaughter, martyrs for the cause, and one step closer to bringing it all down…sometimes, it's too fucking easy._


	15. And the world still turns and burns II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (I think). Don't own Incredibles, Disney/Pixar does (and I know they would burn me at the stake if they ever saw what I've done to their creation).

Author's Notes:

As always, thanks to the usual suspects who are still with me on this wild ride. On a side note, I want to directly address the person who is from the Russian Federation and keeps tagging this story. I don't know why you keep reading this story, but I appreciate it. You've been with me from the beginning...not sure if you've reviewed or not, but I appreciate you sticking around. Hell, I appreciate all of you sticking around.

Anyway, here's another chapter and, yes, it actually has some of the main characters in it. I know some people are wondering if I've forgotten about David, Zoe, and crew, but I haven't. Just remember, people, this is an "ensemble" story with multiple characters and inter-linking sub-plots that eventually tie altogether. I just hope you people stick around for the roller-coaster ride.

Okay, here we go, part two of the "The world still turns and burns" arc.

* * *

_"Sales of Alejandra's From the Ashes Concert tour have set major records according to experts at Ticketmaster and N!Terntainment Events. The concerts in LA, Phoenix, Portland, Las Vegas, and Seattle have sold out. That's fairly impressive for something that was only announced just a couple weeks ago..."_

**-Access Hollywood**

_"The Electronic Entertainment industry was rocked a few days ago when David Flynn appeared unannounced at N!Con in San Diego last week much to the chagrin of the N!Channel network and gave the public a brief glimpse at a new game console his company had developed. Though it was only a twenty minute presentation, the product left enough of an impact that Novation Entertainment, ViaSoft, and Sony are looking at possible legal action against SST. As it is, the public is waiting in anticipation for October 31st, when David will be holding a Halloween party at SST's Metroville campus and doing the official unveiling of what he has called 'The Omega Console System'."_

**-GAMERZ! Magazine**

* * *

Metroville, California

30 October 2006

1100 HRS.

Bridgette Saunders rolled her eyes in annoyance when her father pulled their car up to the small guard shack that stood in front of the entrance to the SST parking lot. She still couldn't believe her father, Doctor Aaron Saunders, one of the leading robotic experts in the world was willing to do business with someone Bridgette could only describe as a "mega-smart wannabe boy/king with delusions of grandeur and his little glee club of misfits and posers". It took all her effort to not wrinkle her nose in disgust as she saw a group of nova employees at the far end of the parking lot setting up what appeared to be some kind of stage.

She saw a black man suspended upside down from a platform in a harness shouting down instructions to a large rock like creature who replied back to him with numbers and talking about going to high-heat for a few seconds. The black man nodded, pulled on goggles that were strapped to the top of his head and raised one of his hands which suddenly ignited in a ball of flame that quickly narrowed and into a smaller and more concentrated plume of fire that he then used to start welding on the structure he was attached to. A pink blur buzzed around the base of the stage and Bridgette watched as various pieces of equipment seemed to fly together in a sort of mini pink tornado, assembling components and setting up lighting and cables. The blur stopped to reveal a young pink haired woman who paused to wipe the sweat off her brow, walked over to a small table where several Starbucks cups were sitting, and then proceeded to drink one before disappearing in a pink blur again.

Bridgette shook her head. _What a bunch of fucking waste,_ she thought. _These people should be working for Utopia and the greater good. Instead, they're working for the son of a weapons designer who's a greedy little shit cashing in on his father's inventions._

She didn't doubt that David Flynn was highly intelligent, but Bridgette wasn't impressed. At the age of 19, she had two degrees and was working with her father on revolutionizing the field of robotics. From what she had seen of Flynn since he made his "public debut" a few months ago, he was an arrogant punk who cared more about cashing in instead of helping make the world a better place. And it appeared that he had surrounded himself with employees who felt the same way.

However, her father, for some reason, decided to approach Flynn with their newly developed nanotech instead of going to Utopia. They had several arguments on this subject; but despite Bridgette's best arguments, her father was very adamant about going to not going to Utopia.

"Despite the good Utopia has done, one cannot help but be suspicious about their intentions," he had told her.

"How can you say that?" she asked him. "They've cleaned up the environment, stabilized the world, and developed new technologies."

"Yes, but why is it that they feel they should have control over almost every new discovery or advancement made in the last decade?"

That question always stopped her. When he first asked her that, she scoffed at him, lightly joking that he was starting to sound like one of those paranoid late-night radio talk show conspiracy hosts. However, when she actually thought about it, she did realize that Utopia seemed to have proprietary interest or complete control over a majority of the latest technological breakthroughs.

_But at least they're careful with the new technology they develop. I have yet to see Utopia cause an incident like what happened in Brazil a few years back._

She was brought back to reality when her father rolled down the windows of car to talk to a large muscular black man wearing shades who, while still looking intimidating, took a moment to briefly admire her father's car. "I take it you're Doctor Aaron Saunders," the man said.

"Yes." Her father then gestured at her with his arm. "And this is my daughter, Bridgette Saunders. She's also my assistant at the lab."

The guard tapped something in a handheld data-pad, waited a few seconds, and then nodded. "Okay…you're cleared to go in. But first, the car…'63 Falcon?"

Bridgette inwardly groaned. She hated it when her father met another classic car enthusiast. She couldn't figure out how her father, one of the most celebrated experts in the field of robotics, could reduce himself to talking "shop" on old and outdated gas-guzzling antiques.

"Yes," her father said, giving the guard a grin, "restored her myself though it took me a few years."

"Sweet, looks like you got mostly original interior, except for the MP3 Deck in the dashboard there."

"It is," said Doctor Saunders. "So, do you have one?'

The black man shook his head. "Nah, I'm more into motorcycles. I'm currently trying to restore an old Indian." He then pointed at the main building. "But David's the one into classic cars, that black 1970 Mustang parked right in front of the building is his."

Saunders turned to look in the direction the guard was pointing and let out a low whistle. "1970 Mustang Mach 1," he said appreciatively, "how did he come by that?"

The guard shrugged as he reached in and pushed a button that opened the gate. "Not sure exactly," he replied. "He mentioned something about it being a project car with his dad or something. All I know is that he treats that baby with a lot more TLC than his last car."

"Oh really? If you don't mind me asking, what happened to his last car?"

The guard grinned as he waved them through. "Tossed it at a Utopia nova that was trespassing, but it was no big loss. After all, it was just a BMW Mini Cooper."

Bridgette shook her head while her father and the guard laughed. She didn't like the way her father seemed amused by what the guard had said, but she didn't say anything until after her father pulled away from the guard shack and headed into the SST parking lot. "Not cool, Dad."

Aaron Saunders grinned at her daughter. "What? Like he said, it was just a BMW…never liked those cars anyway."

"He said it was used against a nova from Utopia."

"So what if it was," Saunders laughed, "at least it was useful for something."

"Dad!"

Saunders' amusement faded a little. "Look, Bridgette," he said, "I understand that you believe Utopia has done a lot of good for the world, but don't let that cloud your judgment."

"Don't tell me you're one of those people who believe Utopia is secretly evil."

"Bridgette, you know me better than that. I won't deny that Project Utopia has done great things, but I also know that not every thing is so easily 'black and white'. Yes, they've done all these amazing things, but everything has a price at the end and I sometimes wonder if there's something we don't know."

Bridgette rolled her eyes again. "You're not going to start quoting that line from Jurassic Park again, are you?"

Saunders laughed and reached over to give his daughter a one-armed hug. "Nah…I'll spare you the Jeff Goldblum impersonation this time."

Despite her annoyance at the whole situation, she couldn't help laughing as her father pulled up alongside the black Ford Mustang which, she had to admit, was very impressive. They both got out of their car, Saunders taking a moment to get the oversized briefcase out of the back seat while Bridgette looked at the front of the building. "Still can't believe this used to be a middle school," she said.

Saunders also looked at the building, staring at the tinted polarized glass that made up the front entrance. "Yeah, a very interesting set-up," he said.

"Doc Saunders!"

Both Bridgette and her father turned to see a Native American man walking up to them wearing gray coveralls and his long black hair tied back in a pony-tail. It took her a moment, but Bridgette recognized him as the SST rep who had approached her father a couple weeks ago; except, this time, he wasn't wearing a three-piece suit.

"Ah, Mr. Null," Saunders said, shaking the other man's offered hand. "I was wondering if you were going to be here."

The young man called Null just smiled and shrugged. "I'm wherever I'm needed, doing whatever is needed."

"And what exactly is it that you do around here, Mr. Null?" It was an honest question, but Bridgette wasn't able to reel in her mild hostility at the whole situation. Her father shot her a disapproving look.

However, Null didn't seem fazed by that in the least. Instead, he smiled as he reached into the right breast pocket of his coveralls and pulled out several thin strips of fabric that had Velcro backing. "That's a good question," he replied. Then he started sorting through the strips. "Okay…security...nah, Jake's got that today. Janitor…nah, that's later tonight. Technician….nope, that's not it. Event Staff…dammit, that's not it either." He went through a few more strips before finally pulling out one. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed. "Here we go…JOATMON!" He put the other strips of fabric back in his pocket but put the one labeled J.O.A.T.M.O.N on the small Velcro patch above the pocket."

"JOATMON?" Bridgette asked.

"Jack of all trades, master of none," Null replied. "Truthfully, that pretty much summarizes my job here. You ever read the Count of Monte Cristo or seen any of the movies?"

That question caught Bridgette off guard. "Um…yeah," she managed to say. "Why?"

"Think of me as SST's resident 'Luigi Vampa on permanent retainer'." The reference went over Bridgette's head, but her father couldn't help laughing. Obviously, he got the joke and nodded approvingly as Null motioned for them to follow. "C'mon in, and I'll show you around a little."

Stepping into the atrium entrance of the SST building was something Bridgette was not prepared for. She was expecting what would pass as a typical lobby for an office building with a few connecting hallways off to one side or an elevator there. The small café in one corner was not something she was expecting along with the smell of fresh baked goods. Off to the other side of the entrance was looked like a makeshift lounge in front of a very large wall-mounted flat-screen television with several comfortable leather chairs arranged in front of it. Several people were sitting there, tapping away on lap tops while small reptilian creature with wings was holding game console control pad and playing some sort of racing game that was on the flat-screen. At the end of the atrium were a couple hallways and corridors that led somewhere as well as a transparent elevator that was in the middle of the atrium that went to the second and third floor.

And, in the middle of it all, about ten feet in front of the elevator, sitting at a large semi-circular desk that surrounded her was a young blonde-haired woman wearing a headset and looking various monitors while tapping away at one of three keyboards that were sitting in front of her.

"Hey, Crystal," Null said waving at woman behind the desk. "You mind letting them know we're on our way up?"

Crystal nodded, tapped the head-set and spoke into it. "Null's got Saunders down here…okay, send them up…okay, Vi, I'll tell him."

Bridgette saw Null cringe when he heard the name "Vi". "Tell me what?" Null asked.

"Oh, the usual, that you're a pompous ass."

"Oh…and good morning to her then," Null chuckled.

"Aaaaand, she wants you to fill out the report regarding the BS2 acquisition."

"Oh…hell no…that's supposed to be Blevins' job."

Crystal smirked at him and went back to tapping away on her main keyboard. "It was," she said, not even bothering to look back up at him. "And she'll be filing reports from on-site once she and the crew get set up there next week. But until then...it's all yours."

"Dammit, she hates me, I just know it," Null muttered under his breath. He then turned to look back at Bridgette and her father. "Okay, this is where I leave you. It turns out our VP slash Dominatrix-In-Chief has decided to kill the rest of my morning and afternoon. Go ahead and take the elevator to the third floor and Vi will meet you up there." He then turned and walked away, grumbling under his breath while Bridgette watched in disbelief as he started to literally dissolve into a mist and disappear.

"Very professional," Bridgette dead-panned.

Saunders, on the other hand, was amused by this. "Tell me…Crystal was it? Is this how things usually are around here?"

Crystal didn't look up from her screen. "Pretty much, though today's a slow day and people are getting ready the Halloween Party tomorrow."

"That's what all that prep is going on for outside?" Bridgette couldn't believe it. "A Halloween party?"

Crystal looked at Bridgette as if she asked a stupid question. "Well, yeah, because it's Halloween and David figures it would be the perfect time to publicly unveil the OCS gaming platform."

Brigette, reluctantly, had to give Flynn some respect. Publicly unveiling something a couple weeks before the height of the holiday shopping season start was a shrewd business move. _Then again, what would one expect from such an arrogant little prick?_

Suddenly, Crystal gave Bridgette an angry look. "That wasn't very nice now, was it?"

Bridgette, once again, was caught off guard. _Oh shit, she heard me? But I didn't say anything._

"You didn't have to," Crystal snapped back. "You might as well be shouting your thoughts at me. Try backing off the disgust and maybe it won't bleed through and I won't hear it."

Bridgette managed to regain her composure, though she was shocked that someone could read her mind?

"Telepath?" her father asked.

Crystal smiled at him and nodded. "Yep, though it's mostly just hearing surface thoughts. Not good at actually digging deeper. And it still doesn't help me win at poker, especially when the people I play with know how to mess up my ability."

"Remarkable." Saunders then gestured at the elevator. "Bridgette, I do believe we're expected elsewhere."

Crystal went back to her work, but waited until she heard the elevator doors open and then close before saying what was on her mind.

"Bitch."

* * *

Despite the tension that seemed to be gripping the world after the attack (yes, it was finally acknowledged by all a few weeks AFTER the fact as an actual "attack") on Mexico City and the leaked footage of the man "allegedly responsible" for it talking in front of a Church of Michael gathering, life continued to trudge on for everyone. Even though there was still the heightened sense of fear and alarm at one of the "greatest catastrophes the world has ever known" (as dictated and quoted by the pro-Utopia biased media who, despite their claim of noble intentions, were milking the disaster for all it was worth), most of the residents of planet Earth seemed to fall back into the standard routine of their normal lives. Yes, most people acknowledged what had happened was a truly horrific event and a good number of them volunteered to assist or contribute to whatever local charity group that was collecting donations for survivors of Mexico City (while some of the less scrupulous individuals out there gleefully set up scams to fleece strangers for cash), but it didn't take very long for them to slip back in their normal routine and, either consciously or sub-consciously, push the event to the back of their minds.

In fact, according to David's calculations, it only took two weeks before the world went back to their lives and Mexico City was no longer the top story in the media. Oh, it was still in the top stories, but it usually ranked fourth or fifth down the line. He could almost see Aeon's hand in the manipulation of the mostly progressive pro-Utopia media outlets, carefully moving Mexico City to the back-burner, but still keeping it there so people wouldn't completely forget about it. And now, almost a month after the attack, near the end of October, the only time Mexico City was mentioned was when the next stops of novox singer Alejandra's "From the Ashes" tour were announced. Unless, of course, T2M did some sort of reconstruction work (and especially if Pax was involved), then the networks wasted no time in breaking into regular programming and promoting Utopia's "great accomplishment". It was kind of funny really…and pretty pathetic.

However, David really didn't give a damn about Utopia and T2M's accomplishments. And, as much as he wanted to help with the Mexico City relief effort, he knew that he could only do so much. Utopia, having been revealed at dropping the ball on Mexico City, went all out to make a big deal of how they were now taking most of the burden in helping the city recover. They (and their parent organization, Aeon) didn't outright tell independent and non-affiliated parties providing aid to get lost, but the pro-Utopia networks made damn sure to make a big show of Utopia's efforts while downplaying the efforts of other groups involved. So he quietly had SST divert some funding for medical equipment and food supplies, providing what was needed when asked.

But as it was, David had other things to worry about. While down in Mexico, he encountered a survivor who recognized the crudely constructed Zero-Point gauntlets he wore for what they were. When he tried to look for that man at the camp later on and ask him a few questions, he learned the man had gone missing. He had a sinking feeling about what had happened at Mexico City. The readings from some of his equipment that he used to scan the area of residual energy patterns confirmed it; whoever attacked Mexico City had used some sort of ZP tech that had been weaponized.

And that scared the hell out of him.

As far as David was concerned, only two people had a firm understanding of ZP technology; he was one of those individuals and he was nowhere near the level of development that the other, his biological father, was at when he died. That meant there was a possibility that someone else might have access to that technology.

Sitting at his desk, he studied the computer screen in front of him, watching as a 3D rendered diagram of his latest attempt at building a ZP gauntlet was broken down into its component parts. He focused on the schematics for the miniaturized reactor core, noting that it would be impossible to build one until he had developed the right alloys that could contain that kind of power in something that small. Yes, he had found some people that were close in developing such an element, but most of them were somehow connected with Utopia or Aeon via research grant or contract. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that would tip off his enemies that he was up to something.

While there were also "independent" scientists and inventors out there, the threat of being targeted by Utopia's now infamous Sci-Tech regulations department had many would-be developers of new technologies hiding. Granted, the UN sponsored Sci-Tech charter that allowed Utopia to examine newly developed tech and, if the tech was considered dangerous, confiscate it may have been sold as a good idea to the public but those in the scientific community knew better. Originally, the Sci-Tech charter was created to prevent another "Sau Paulo incident".

In 2003, someone had managed to create a crude quantum fusion bomb that took out several city blocks in Sau Paulo, Brazil. Only days after the tragedy, Utopia approached the UN with a proposition of creating a new department within itself to investigate and regulate any newly developed technology and the UN enthusiastically supported it. Some of the more industrialized Nations, such as the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, and Japan balked at the proposal. However, the proposal passed a vote of the General Assembly and Utopia's Scientific Technologies Division was created despite the objections. Unfortunately, the only thing the "Sci-Tech proposal" really accomplished was force many inventors to work underground and "off the grid", making the possibility of another Sau Paulo disaster very real. The governments of the United States, the United Kingdom, and Germany openly challenged the proposal, eventually passing legislation that allowed them some leeway but any company wanting to conduct business outside their home country would still have to comply with Sci-Tech regulations. Japan paid lip-service to the Sci-Tech charter, its government quietly looking the other way while its own scientists worked on their various projects.

When David had announced the formation of SST, Utopia's Sci-Tech flunkies were waiting for him with lawyers and paperwork, preparing to bury him in fines and regulation. But then…the strangest thing happened. The names of various corporations developing "new and Utopia approved" technological advances were leaked out to various news outlets and web sites around the world…along with evidence proving that they were subsidiary companies secretly owned Project Utopia and some of the advances they claimed to have "developed" and were marketing were actually advances confiscated from their original creators because they were deemed "too dangerous". The revelation of that bombshell had Utopia running for cover, paying off those scientists they had stolen from (at least those who were still alive) and conveniently uncovering a "scandal" involving one the Directors of Sci-Tech and placing all the blame on that individual before that person mysteriously disappeared. The general public bought the story, but Utopia still had to reel back some of their authority.

David smiled at that memory, it was his first open strike against Utopia and no one knew he was the one behind it…well, almost no one. As always, NSA Director Dicker somehow knew, but all he did was chuckle and say, "You did good, kid; good enough that I won't be throwing your ass in the freezer."

That was a few months ago and now SST was officially going public worldwide with various products. The first was the unveiling of the SST "Omega Console System" (OCS for short), a modular media system that was developed quietly in partnership with Nintendo. David had no doubt the system, when made available on the public market would cripple Sony and Viasoft (or at the very least make the two giants lower the overinflated price on their own game console systems) and he had a couple law firms on retainer in case someone tried to attack him legally. He knew for a fact that Novation Novelties & Games, a known subsidiary owned by Utopia that marketed toys, games, and media concerning Utopia, would probably try something but he was more that ready for him.

The second SST project that David allowed the public to learn about was the recent purchase of the Biosphere 2 project from the University of Arizona and restoring it to serve its original purpose of creating a self-sustaining artificial habitat with multiple environmental ecosystems. While so called "scientific experts" working for Project Utopia were berating the project on N!Channel and saying that SST had no right to attempt to break into a field that should be "left to the real scientists of Utopia", other groups applauded the concept citing that no one should have a monopoly on Environmental Sciences. However, things took an interesting turn for David and the SST personnel he had assigned to the BS2 project when a mysterious package was found sitting on the front lawn of the SST building. Security camera footage didn't show anyone dropping the package up but closer examination did show the ground ripple slightly as the package rose up out of the ground. After having Null and other security people examine it, David opened up the package to find, much to his surprise, copies of the original blueprints to Biosphere 2 and notes on what improvements to make to the facility to make it actually work. Along with the blueprints was a handwritten letter from one Doctor Spencer Balmer.

Doctor Spencer Balmer aka the nova known as "Antaeus", the overall Director of Environmental Sciences at Project Utopia. David was shocked when he had received a letter from anyone at Utopia, much less one of their main department directors, but the letter was very revealing to say the least. Though David had never met the man personally, the nova's physical appearance made David wonder if Doctor Balmer was even remotely human anymore and had perhaps evolved into something even more than just a nova. His suspicions were confirmed when he read the letter.

Balmer, like David, was looking at things in the long term and could also see what was coming. Not only did he know what David was doing, he actually approved and was willing to covertly offer assistance when it was needed. At first, David wondered how Balmer even knew, and then he realized that it would be hard to hide his activity from a being that had the capability of merging with the Earth itself and learn what's happening on it in a given location. It was kind of scary, actually.

On the other hand, David somehow ended up being on Balmer's good side and he had no intention of risking that. Other projects would be unveiled in the next few months and David was hoping that they would provide the distraction needed to divert Utopia's attention from the BS2 project. And if he had the Director of Utopia's Environmental Sciences Department secretly backing him that was proof enough to David that the BS2 project and what he had planned for it was very important.

_I wonder what Balmer would do if he saw I was trying to recover my father's research, _David thought as he had the display window zoom in on the core's schematics. _Then again, he probably already knows. Damn, for all m_y _security and paranoia, I wonder how many others know._

David suspected there were at least a few powerful people who knew, or suspected, what he was up to and, oddly enough, he took pride in that fact.

_Antaeus, Divis Mal, and Dicker; two of the world's most powerful novas and the world's most paranoid baseline intelligence director. The first is an eccentric with his own agenda, the second also has his own agenda but seems to have vanished, and the third…hell, he's probably the most dangerous of the three._

He smirked at the irony of that thought. Dicker was dangerous because of what he knew and the assets he had at his disposal. On the other hand, Dicker had something that the people behind Utopia lacked…a conscience. At least, that was David's opinion.

_Thankfully, I haven't really pissed any of them off…yet._

He was about to run another element analysis when a knock on the door of his office brought him back to the present. He looked up to see Violet standing in the doorway. "Hey, David, a Doctor Aaron Saunders is waiting for you in the lobby along with his daughter. Should I have them come up?"

David smiled at her and nodded. "Yeah, send them up," he said. "So…how are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. Even though she said it innocently, there was an underlying layer of sarcasm to the question. "How am I doing regarding to the fact that I've been dragged into a shadow war against a globe-spanning organization and I'm fighting alongside the son of my family's most dangerous enemy?" She paused dramatically as she pondered how to answer her own comment. "Actually, not too bad," she finally said. Then the sarcasm vanished. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you really trying to accomplish?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your endgame." Violet stepped up to his desk and leaned forward, tapping the small globe that David kept on one corner. "I get the whole 'rebel standing up to the corrupt world-spanning organization' thing you got going on, but let's be honest; you're not going to be able to take them down on your own."

"Never planned to, Vi," David said. "But yeah, there is an endgame. You wanted me to show you what we're up against, I did. And I'll be honest with you, I didn't show you what I've got planned in the long term because you would think I was nuts just like..." He hesitated, not willing to finish the sentence. For a moment, Violet saw the confident mega-genius disappear and saw the terrified young man she had occasionally glimpsed made an appearance before vanishing again.

"My father," David finally said a couple seconds later, "Buddy Pine was nuts, but his technological advancements were beyond even what Utopia was able to develop on their own. Hell, half of the shit they've got is based on the stuff he created for Aeon."

"I never said you were nuts, David." Violet gave him a tiny smile. "Maybe a little insane, but not nuts. I know you have an agenda and I know that you know far more than what you've told me which will probably give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I just want to know WHY you haven't told me everything, I thought you trusted me."

"I do, but if I tell you anymore, I guarantee you'll become an even bigger target than you are now." David tapped a couple keys on the keyboard, closing his current project and activating the holographic projector on his desk as brought up another file. A 3D schematic of the Biosphere project in Arizona flared to life. "This, as you know, is the old BS2 project that we purchased in Arizona."

"I know what it is, David, I remember studying it in high school and how it was considered a failure for it's attempt create an self-contained and self-sustaining ecosystem."

"Yeah, well, there's a couple reasons it failed, some of it due to poor planning and execution, but it was ultimately killed by a lack of funding and someone going out of their way to make sure it didn't succeed." David held up a hand to forestall any comment from Violet. "But we're not going to talk about conspiracy. The fact of the matter is that it is viable, especially with the technology we have now and the advances we continue to make. This is Phase 1...getting it operational. If things work out and we can get it fully functional and working properly, we'll be going to Phase 2 a year from now. If this deal with Saunders works out, this may be accelerated by a couple months."

"And what about Phase 3?" Violet asked, giving David a knowing grin. "Would this have anything to do with your arguments with Dicker about that block of 'real estate' in the Pacific?"

David hid his surprise behind an arched eyebrow, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips was told Violet that he was impressed. "Why, Violet Parr," he said in an exaggerated tone of righteous indignation, "have you been spying on me...again?"

"If I'm supposed to be your VP and keep up with you, yes," Violet said "Although, I have to ask you, do you really think the NSA is going to let you have Nomansian Island? Actually, here's a better question...WHY!"

David stared at her for a moment before replying. "I'll give you two reasons," he said. "First, Nomansian is located in International waters which means, technically, it's out of anyone's jurisdiction though Dicker made sure the NSA stripped the island installation of everything they could, including some of the projects that my fa...that Buddy Pine was working on."

Once again, Violet caught the hesitation, but she noticed David managed to hide the fear. "Okay," she said, "but that means you also won't be protected either if you decided to relocate there."

"True, but it will also free up the NSA and Dicker won't need to have people occupying it."

"David, if you don't mind me asking, why do you even want that island?"

"I won't lie to you, Vi. There's some stuff on that island that nobody should mess with. It's not that I don't trust Dicker and the NSA. If anything, I'd prefer them over to Utopia because I know they won't try to use and abuse it. Hell, knowing Dicker, he'd probably try to destroy the island and that would be a bad thing. And if Utopia or, even worse, Aeon got a hold of it, they wouldn't waste their time using what they find on the island for their own purposes and it would be bad for the rest of the world."

"I thought you said Dicker and crew stripped the island of most of Pine's stuff."

David shook his head, smiling at her. "Believe me, Vi, they didn't get everything." Then his smile faded a little. "We just need to make sure they don't find it." He looked at a monitor on a wall. "Well, it looks like our guests are on their way up. You better get out there and meet them...we got a show to put on."

"What kind of show?" Violet asked, noticing that David quickly changed the subject on her.

He grinned at her again. "Well, Saunders and his daughter is expecting to meet a young punk mega-genius, so we might as well give them what they want to see."

* * *

"You know, you could have handled that a little bit better," Saunders said as the elevator started to carry them to the third floor. "Especially when it's a known fact that almost all the employees here are novas or very talented humans."

"I'm sorry," Bridgette said. "It's just that these people are acting like a bunch of immature brats out of high-school."

"Um, Bridge," Saunders said, using his daughter's nickname. "You're nineteen years old...some would argue that you would fall into that crowd."

"Um…Dad…no. Graduated at ten, got my first degree at twelve, and I'm nothing like them."

Saunders sighed and shook his head. "Sometimes," he said, giving his daughter a sad smile, "I wonder if I should have sheltered you too much, gave you too much of a path to follow."

"You know that's not true, Dad," Bridgette said. "I just went down the logical route. I knew I was different than other kids, better than them, and I simply went my way."

"Perhaps," Saunders admitted. "But I wonder if I screwed up by depriving you of a childhood."

This time Bridgette laughed. "Dad, you didn't deprive me of anything! I knew I was different and I'll have you know that I had a good childhood, thank you very much. I played with dolls like most little girls did."

"Most little girls wouldn't attempt to dissect a Barbie doll and then write a report explaining what kind of surgery would be necessary to make a human look like that and how it would ultimately kill them within a couple years due to medical complications brought on by the surgical procedures."

"True," Bridgette admitted before giving her father an evil grin, "but it was really fun to traumatize all the other third-graders and the teacher. Besides, that's what convinced you to get me out of there and help me realize my full potential."

"Yes, but still...maybe I shouldn't have made you follow in my footsteps."

"Dad, I didn't follow in your footsteps. I went willingly because I thought the robotic stuff was cool. End of story."

Saunders was about to say something else, but the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a young woman in her early twenties with long dark brown that almost looked black. She wore jeans and a button-up shirt and almost looked like a normal person compared to the "madhouse" downstairs, but Bridgette couldn't help wondering if the girl was just a "goth" dressing down for the part.

"Hi there," the young woman said, extending her hand to Saunders. "I'm Violet Parr, vice-president of operations here at SST."

Bridgette couldn't stop herself. "Oh, you must be the Dominatrix-In-Chief that Mr. Null was talking about," she blurted out.

"Bridgette!" Saunders snapped before turning to face the other woman. "My apologies, Ms. Parr. My daughter is-"

"Is used to working in lab and is not used to dealing with people outside it?" Violet Parr smiled when she asked the question, but Bridgett saw the cold gleam in her eyes. "That's okay, Mr. Saunders. We have a few of those like that around here. Now if you would be so kind as to follow me."

Bridgette and her father followed Parr down hallway until they reached the last office at the end. She opened the door and they stepped inside to reveal a good sized suite that looked like a large, but well kept, living room. The only thing that seemed out of place was the weird desk in the middle of the room projecting a three dimensional hologram a few inches above its surface. Behind the desk sat David Flynn who, with a tap on the console, made all the holographic diagrams that had been occupying the air in front of him vanish.

"Ah, Doctor Saunders," he said in greeting as he got up and shook Saunders' hand. "Thank you for coming."

"Mr. Flynn…" Saunders started but was cut off by David.

"Please, call me David. I keep hearing 'Mr. Flynn' and I have flashbacks of my chemistry teacher in high school." He paused and suddenly looked at Bridgette. "Go ahead, Ms. Saunders," he chuckled, "you might as well say that smart-ass comment that just popped in your head."

"So when was that, exactly, last week?"

An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a few seconds, but Bridgette noticed that David Flynn was still smiling. "Last year, actually," he replied. "Then again, there were those of us who weren't mega-brains who got their first college degree at age twelve. Hell, technically speaking, I didn't even go to college."

Bridget smirked at him. "And yet, here you are," she said, just a little bit of condescension in her voice.

This time, Flynn laughed at her, actually amused.

"Mr…um…David," Saunders said, trying to keep any arguments from breaking out. "This is my daughter, Bri-"

"Bridgette Saunders," Flynn said, cutting Saunders off again. This time there was something in his voice that bothered Bridgette. She wasn't sure what it was, but the look he gave her as he spoke was one of curiosity. "Degrees in Physics, Medicine, and Robotics...all before you turned eighteen. I actually read your article on genetic patterns and mapping algorithms last year. Pretty cool stuff."

"Really?" For the first time in a long time, Bridgette was momentarily flustered. She hadn't even released that paper to the public, but this little punk knew about it. _How is that possible? Very few people read that paper and they were part of a select group._

"Yeah," Flynn said, smiling at her. "And I happen to know some people in that select group."

_Wait, I didn't say that...how could he know?_

Flynn winked at her before turning his attention to her father. "So, Doctor Saunders," he said, clasping his hands together, "I understand you made a breakthrough with your nanotechnology project."

Saunders set the over-sized briefcase on the table, pausing for a moment to place his thumb on a tiny pad next to the handle. A moment later, the seals to the case unlocked and he opened it to pull out a plastic one-quart cylinder of what appeared to be a dark gray liquid. He smiled as he saw Flynn arch an eyebrow in interest. "You could say that," he said as he nodded to his daughter who had pulled a small laptop out of her own bag and was getting ready to run the program. "Tell me, Mr. Flynn, did you ever watch the Terminator movies?"

"Yeah, a long time ago," Flynn replied, a curious look on his face as he watched Saunders open the container and then proceed to pour the mercury-like fluid onto the desk. At the same time, Bridgette was on her laptop typing in the activation command while Flynn stared at the liquid that was now developing into an oozing pool on his desk.

"Hey Doc, I hope this doesn't leave a stain," Flynn joked, "because I don't-whoa!"

Bridgette manage to stifle the snicker at Flynn's reaction as the nanites came to life and the pool suddenly begin to ooze into various shapes and patterns before forming into a small three dimensional cube that stood about six inches high. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Flynn," she chuckled, "I didn't mean to startle you." She tapped in a couple more commands and the cube reshaped itself to small humanoid shape.

"Okay, now that's just creepy," Bridgette heard Violet Parr say. This time, Bridgette didn't bother hiding the smug grin on her face at the other woman's reaction.

However, Bridgette's smugness was thrown off a little as David Flynn simply looked at the small figure, a look of wonder on his face. For a moment, Bridgette didn't see some young arrogant, mega-intelligent punk. Instead, it was like looking at a child who saw their first snowfall...at least that was the only description she could come up with.

And that was when it happened.

"Well, hello there," David said to the small nanite creation on his desk. And then Bridgette's screen suddenly flooded with various symbols and coding.

"What the hell," she said, looking up from her screen and back to the desk as the nanite figure suddenly melted back down into a puddle and then reforming into what appeared to be molecular models.

Saunders was also taken by surprise and walked over to where his daughter was frantically tapping away on the keyboard. "Bridgette?"

Bridgette shook her head. "I don't know what's happening, it's as if something else is taking control of it." Then she looked back up at Flynn's desk and watched as the nanite construct shifted again, reshaping into what appeared to be some sort of schematic model.

Flynn, on the other hand, laughed. However, it wasn't a cruel or arrogant laugh, but one of actual amusement and wonder. "Oh yeah...this is fucking awesome," he said, talking to the nanite construct. "You are fucking awesome."

Almost in response to his comment, the nanite construct shifted again, returning back to the form of the humanoid model and taking a bow.

"Okay," Bridgette snapped, "that's not supposed to happen! I don't know what went wrong, but-"

"Relax, Ms. Saunders," David said. "I couldn't help myself, especially when I can hear all those little things communicating like that, waiting for a command."

"What do you mean by 'waiting for a command'?" Bridgette asked. Then it hit her. "You...that's your power isn't it? You can talk to machines."

Flynn shrugged and grinned at her. "Something like that...what, you didn't think I managed all these accomplishments as a baseline at age eighteen, did you?"

"I managed to do that," Bridgette said.

"Yeah, well, that just makes you special in other ways," Flynn shot at her, his smile fading a little, "doesn't it?"

Bridgette glared at him, getting ready to answer his snide comment with one of her own, but she noticed he wasn't looking at her, but at her father who had a concerned look on his face.

_Am I missing something here?_

For a moment, no one said anything and an uncomfortable silence filled the room until David finally cleared his throat. "Violet," he said, "would you mind showing Ms. Saunders around the facility?"

"That's okay," Bridgette said, "I don't think that's necessary."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find something to comment on," Flynn said, looking straight at her. "Go on, take a look around."

For an instant, Bridgette felt as if an electrical jolt went through her body and she felt disoriented, but that must have been her imagination. Perhaps she should get out of the stuffy office for a little bit and get some air.

"It's okay, Bridge," Saunders assured his daughter. "We'll still be here."

"Fine, but don't make any deals with this guy." Bridgette shot Flynn a glare. "At least not until I get back."

Flynn just shook his head and smiled. "Ms. Saunders, I assure you, I'm not the evil and vile mastermind the Utopia biased media paints me as."

"Yeah," Parr quipped, "he doesn't have the 80s hair for that." Before Bridgette could say anything in response, the other woman led her out of the room.

* * *

David waited until he was certain Violet had left with Bridgette Saunders. He then gestured at the nanite figure on his desk which dissolved back into its base puddle form before forming into a small pyramid. "I gotta' tell ya, Doc, this stuff is pretty damn impressive."

"Yes," Saunders replied, unsure of the tone in David's voice, "they are very impressive, as is your ability do interface with them."

David gave him a knowing grin. "Yeah, I guess they're a little bit more advanced than the prototypes. Then again, the prototypes probably adapted and evolved, didn't they?"

This time, Saunders visibly paled. "Wh-what are you talking about?" he managed to stammer, caught off guard by Flynn's sudden change of tone.

David leaned forward on his desk, looking at the man. The nanite pyramid began to shift and reform into a miniature metallic statue of Bridgette. "Tell me, Doctor Saunders, does Bridgette know she has an earlier version of this stuff coursing through her brain or is she truly in the dark on this?"

TO BE CONTINUED...(yes, I'm evil, I know it)


	16. And the world still turns and burns III

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Pixar/Brad Bird does. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does...still...dammit.

Author's Notes:

Okay...just to clear up confusion...page breaks when there's a change of PoV or scenery. As always, I thank the usual suspects for sticking around. Hope you enjoy the ride. I also want to thank RubyPaladin for letting me use his idea (and it was very easy to make it fit, thank you very much). Again, not much going on here. Another development chapter. However, there is a reason for the build-up.

* * *

_"In other news today, Project Utopia Director Justin Laragione announced that Metroville, California will serve as temporary headquarters for a new T2M Americas cell until Mexico City is rebuilt. While some critics feel that it is too soon, Team Tomorrow Leader Caestus Pax said that it would be honoring the members of the dead by carrying on with their mission."_

_-MSNBC News_

_"Oh yeah, finally! Project Utopia got wise and put a T2M cell in Metroville. Good! Now let's see David Flynn try getting away with shit when people like Pax are sitting on his doorstep."_

_-Brandi Miller, "The Brandi Miller Show", Air America Radio_

_"Okay, T2M Americas gets slaughtered, Mexico City gets decimated, Utopia's slow in responding to the tragedy, but instead decides to put a new T2M cell hundreds of miles away up in Metroville where David Flynn happens to be based out of. I don't see the point. If they're so damned concerned about Mexico City, why not base the team down in Mexico City? The answer...it's simple. They don't give a damn about Mexico City, they just want to go after a key player who embarrassed them. The problem is, sitting on David Flynn's doorstep is just asking for trouble. Utopia and their supporters may see him as a little punk, but that little punk has publicly faced down Caestus Pax a few times and told Utopia to go fuck themselves. He won't back down and, if Utopia doesn't back off, they might be setting off a powder keg."_

_-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show", XM Radio_

_"David Flynn announced that he will be unveiling a new game system this Halloween to the entire world that will knock the industry on it's year. At the same time, Viasoft and Sony executives were crying foul and filing injunctions to stop Flynn's unveiling."_

_-Fox Business News_

* * *

_**SST Campus**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Aaron Saunders knew this day would come. It could be argued that he feared this day would come, but that would be irrelevant since he already knew it was coming and therefore inevitable. So what would be the point of fearing it? Yes, it was a terrifying situation; but, like any dire situation that gave forewarning, it was possible to be prepared for it. And so, Aaron Saunders, knowing the truth would some day be found out, prepared himself for the various scenarios he had played through his head over the last seventeen years.

Some government agency finding out.

Some foreign agency finding out.

The NSA finding out.

Aeon (or worse, the remnants of PSI) finding out.

Some overzealous investigative reporter finding out.

Utopia (a fairly recent and more real threat) finding out.

And he had contingency plans in place for those situations. Granted, they were not the best solutions and he was certain the law of averages ruled that some of those plans were futile, but he DID have plans in place for dealing with those problems if they arose.

However, a young mega-intelligent nova with the ability to mentally link with electronic devices and running his own company…that had not been on Aaron's list of possible scenarios. This was not how he imagined the secret getting out and, to be honest, he would have thought the revelation about Bridgette would have been under more dire or dramatic circumstances. Instead, he was staring back at the young man, who was calmly sitting in his chair with this his hands folded in front of him and looking up at him expectantly.

For a few more seconds, silence ruled the office accept for maybe the faint hum of the ventilation system. Finally, David Flynn spoke up first. "Well," he said, "are you going to at least deny it?"

"What would be the point?" Aaron asked. "Obviously, you can link with electronics; I don't see the point of lying about it now. I guess the only question I would be asking is how long did you know about her?"

"From the moment you got within a half-mile," Flynn replied. He gestured at the small nanite statue again and it dissolved back into a small puddle. "I'm not sure how to explain this to you, Doc, but let me give you an idea of how that particular power works. First off, it's always on, but I figured out long ago how to control it. Think of me sitting on this tropical island out in the middle of this sea which is filled with nothing but the electronic data flowing throughout the world and I can wade out there and pull up something that attracts my attention. Occasionally I'll run into independent systems that are encrypted, but still linked to the world and therefore are still accessible to me. Granted, a 'closed' system not connected the world-wide web in some way is mostly off limits to me unless I happen to physically be within range of it or I'm actually touching it."

"Within range," Aaron repeated, curious and terrified at the implications of what Flynn had told him. "Exactly what is your range…if you don't mind me asking?"

Flynn smiled wickedly at him. "Let's just say, if I wanted to, I could shut down a 747 as it is flying overhead." Then his smile faded and became a haunted look. "But it also sucks when you can 'hear' the transmissions being relayed as several of them go down all at once."

It took a moment for Aaron to realize what Flynn was referring to, but he felt a wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm him when he figured it out. "The Mexico City tragedy," he said. "You were linked to everything when it happened."

"Pretty much, but like I said, I've learned to how to control it, tune it all out somewhat, but when something flares up before the a whole section suddenly goes dark, you can't help but notice." Flynn shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "You could say it was like having an 'Obi-Wan' moment from Star Wars…you know, the one where he shudders and mumbles something about hearing a bunch of people screaming in terror…and then nothing. When your daughter showed up, it was like an exotic bird landed on the island and was making strange noises."

"I'm sorry," Aaron said. "Had I known, maybe I wouldn't have…"

"Wouldn't have brought your daughter along?" Flynn asked, cutting him off and smiling again. "Don't worry about it," he said, "and don't worry about me revealing your secret. But that brings up other questions."

Aaron nodded solemnly, knowing where this conversation was headed. "Why did I do it? Why did I turn my daughter into a science experiment?"

Flynn shook his head again. "No," he replied. "I think I have a pretty good idea as to why you did it. And while I'm sure there's probably some question of ethics about your situation and the debate about whether it was right or wrong, I don't think I'm qualified to make a judgment call on that."

That was not the kind of response Aaron was expecting from Flynn. "And what do you know, exactly?" he asked.

"It's not that hard," Flynn replied, shrugging his shoulder. "Going through your records, I see you've made a lot off your research and patents, but you've donated the bulk of your money towards various charities, most notably children's hospitals and any organizations doing research into autism. Hell, you even set up a foundation in the name of your late wife that is devoted to only researching cancer or autism. The cancer research is due to the fact that your wife passed away from it, but the autism…that's about Bridgette, isn't it?"

Again, Aaron was once again caught off-guard by Flynn. It wasn't so much that the young man figured so much out, but it was the way the kid was simply stating it as a matter of fact. "So what is it you want to know?" he finally asked when he recovered.

"Why doesn't she know?" Flynn didn't ask it harshly; but the way he asked it made Aaron realize that the young man was considering something important.

And once again, silence dominated the room for a few moments until Aaron finally decided on a course of action. "I think I'll answer your question first by telling you why I did it, Mr. Flynn. Yes, it's a sad little sob story, but I'll spare you the drama and give it to you straight. I loved my wife, and when the cancer hit her shortly after she had Bridgette, I was devastated. It was quick and I watched her literally disintegrate right in front of me." He paused for a moment and took a breath. Though Valerie had been dead for eighteen years now, he still felt the pain. "I was already a young hot-shot in robotics back then and the concept of nanotechnology was still mostly theory."

"Mostly?" Flynn arched an eyebrow when he asked that question. "But you were ahead of the pack, weren't you?"

"Only by a few years and I only crude prototypes." Aaron sighed again as he remembered those early attempts. "I may have been ahead of the pack, but it wasn't enough to be of any practical use. However, from that point on, I swore that I would make my work count for something beneficial. I figured if I could succeed in making my theories a reality and improve on my early designs; my technology could possibly help win the fight against cancer."

Flynn nodded in agreement. "Okay," he said, "you got a point there. So what happened?"

"Being a wealthy widower with a child did have advantages," Aaron said. "Yeah, I was a single parent, but I loved my daughter and made sure she was cared for when I wasn't around. She was the only connection I had left to my wife and I wasn't about to let anything happen to her. I wanted to make sure that what killed her mother would not be around to kill her; so, yes, I will say that I spent a large chunk of my time in the lab. In retrospect, perhaps I would have noticed sooner if I had spent more time with her."

"Her autism."

Aaron nodded solemnly. "Yeah," he said, surprised at how bitter he sounded after all these years, "her autism. She was only two years old when the doctors caught it. One disease took her mother, and now a disorder was trying to take my little girl from me." He looked down at the small metallic puddle on the desk. "Some people would call it bad luck, a dark twist of fate, or just simply a case of the universe pissing on me," he said before looking back up at Flynn. "I called it war. Something was going to take my daughter and I sure as hell wasn't going to give up without doing whatever I could to stop it. And this time, I had the goddamn weapons for this war."

"I take it you modified your tech to adapt to its new parameters."

"It wasn't that hard, expose the nanites to fluid taken from the brain and spinal cord of healthy subjects and then to samples taken from Bridgette so they could do preliminary damage assessment before injection. After two days of analysis, I gave her the injections." He looked don at the desk again, a faraway look in his eyes. "I stayed there at her side non-stop for five days. Thankfully, I had sedated her heavily before the injections; otherwise I think she probably would have been screaming the whole time. I have to tell you, David, I was scared and I almost didn't go through with it. I kept thinking I might actually be killing my daughter the whole time."

"But it obviously worked though, didn't it?"

"Oh yeah, it worked, alright, but not like I expected." Aaron looked back up at Flynn. "Funny thing about playing God, David…mankind sucks at it. The nanites didn't get rid of her autism; they basically rewired and reconfigured parts of her brain so she could function more efficiently with it. In effect, she became a high-level functioning autistic. She could interact with people, but she would still seem a little…off."

To Aaron's surprise, Flynn laughed. "Okay, so most mega-brains are like that…no big deal. You helped your daughter because you loved her; you weren't using her as a science experiment."

"Perhaps," Aaron admitted, "but I still wonder if I had done the right thing. You asked me why I haven't told her, I'm more inclined to ask who I would be telling if I did tell her the truth. Would I be telling my daughter, or am I talking to something that had overwritten and created an algorithm to simulate what I would want to be my daughter?"

* * *

For several seconds, David said nothing. From the moment he had sensed Bridgette Saunders approaching the building, he knew things had changed. He knew Saunders had a breakthrough in Nanotechnology, but he didn't realize how far the man had gone. After hearing the other man's reasoning for what he had done to his daughter, David wondered if the man truly realized what he had done.

_Saving his daughter is one thing, but he's made her a target in addition to himself. There's not an organization on this planet that wouldn't kill to get his technology and dissect his daughter. But it doesn't have to be like that._

"Well," he finally said, as he contemplated the possibilities of Saunders' technology, "I'm not going to argue with the ethics and what is right or wrong, but you should consider telling her. As for your nanotechnology, I would be interested in various applications of it, but I have to know something. Why come to me? Why not Utopia or the NSA?"

"I think the reasons are obvious as to why I distrust Utopia," Saunders replied before sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Unfortunately, Bridgette seems to have a favorable view of them."

"I take it you don't."

"Let's just say that I'm not a big fan of some of the people behind Utopia...and I'm not talking about the blood sucking leeches at the UN."

"Aeon," David said simply, though his mind was racing at the implication. _If Saunders had some dealings with Aeon in the past, that would explain why he's very wary of Utopia. I'm going to have to see what I can dig up on him. If he worked for them, there was no record of it, that would mean someone very good managed to erase any connections he might have had._

"Yes, Aeon." It was almost as if Saunders was spitting out the word because it left a bad tasted in its mouth. "I'm not at liberty to discuss this with you, David, but believe me when I say there are people in that organization who would make some world dictators look like saints." Then he gave David a faint smile. "But I don't need to tell you that, do I?"

David returned the grin. "No, you don't. But why not the NSA? Granted, they might be a bunch of stuff shirts led by a creepy old guy who still remembers the days when man invented the wheel, but Director Dicker is trustworthy."

"Maybe he is, but you pointed out one thing. He's old and probably not long for this world. What do you think will happen should he die or retire?" Saunders looked down at the puddle again and then reached over to tap on some keys on the laptop. The puddle suddenly swirled and then oozed its way back to the container he had set back on the desk. "People will be scrambling to break his database or locate any off-site data storage he has and probably dissolve the NSA in the process. You think Aeon and Utopia are your primary threat, David? You have no idea what monsters are waiting to surface when Dicker is gone or how close they really are. Some might regard you as a punk-ass kid who is naïve to the world. I might disagree with that assessment, but I don't think you know all the players in this game. The reason I chose to 'do business' with you, David, is because I know you can be trusted."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" David asked.

This time, it was Saunders who gave David a smug grin. "Because, David Flynn, who do you think helped your mother get you online and out of that tube eight years ago?" Then his grin got bigger. "The way I see it, you owe me and I'm calling in the favor."

* * *

_**Barton, Texas**_

Buddy Pine watched as members of Horton's crew carefully loaded the DAV into the cargo container. He allowed himself a tiny smile as he listened to the conversations of the various people there.

"This is some serious hardware."

"Gonna' teach them damn freak-lovers somethin'…"

"And the guns…can't believe they're finally getting us some decent guns!"

He chuckled softly and turned to walk towards a table in the warehouse where Micah Piper and Esteban Torano were sitting, going over schematics of an office building that was displayed on a monitor. "Gentlemen," he said, "I assume from your silence and the solemn look on your faces that you have some questions about this plan?"

"Actually, I'm surprised that you went along with Horton's proposal on hitting the Rashoud Center in Houston," Torano replied. "Although I must admit we were curious as to why you are proposing a secondary strike on the target."

"Yes," Piper said, "why did you contact us privately about this and why is Horton not here?"

Buddy cocked his head to one side and smiled before taking a seat at the table. "Well, Mr. Horton and his initial strike team are out on the range of the compound near Dimebox playing soldier boy and trying out those firearms we swiped from Arasaka." Then he lowered his voice a little and leaned forward. "And I figured since he doesn't have the intellectual capacity to comprehend this, it would be best to approach you two instead."

Piper frowned at that comment. "Careful, Gabriel," he warned, "Horton may not be up to your standard of intellect, but he is a sound tactician and accomplishes his objectives."

"True," Buddy admitted, "but what I am proposing is more than just simply rampaging around, killing some novas and their followers, and trashing a building. Yeah, that's fine and all for Horton and 'the corn-fed, tobacco chawin' good 'ol boy brigade', but I can't help but see this as an opportunity to do more than just strike fear into Utopia's supporters. After all, this is a Rashoud center, a place where newly erupted novas register, right?"

"Get to the point, Gabriel," Torano snapped irritably. "Why should a secondary team strike at the facility when Horton's attack will destroy the facility?"

"Because I think Horton's attack would be a very convincing diversion for the secondary team." Buddy paused for a moment before tapping on the monitor screen and bringing up a layout of the building. "Interesting thing about the Rashoud Centers," he said as the schematic zoomed in on a particular room and displayed a wire-frame mock-up of room containing the facility's mainframe, "they may look different on the outside, but they still have the same general set-up. This, my friends, is what the secondary team will be targeting; the facility's mainframe which is linked to Utopia's little network which keeps track of all registered novas on file." He looked up and gave both men another grin. "My proposal, gentlemen is introducing a little extra programming into the main frame."

"Like a virus?"

"Don't be so two-dimensional, Torano," Buddy chided, "why would I want to introduce a virus into Utopia's network when an undetectable back door to their registry that updates regularly would be more useful to us?"

Piper leaned back in his chair, a very thoughtful look on his face as he considered Buddy's words. "Having access to this information would provide us useful intelligence on what kind of novas Utopia would have access to and it would give us what we need to track them down and kill them before they could be sent against us."

"Yes," Torano said, "but I don't like it. There's too many variables and Horton wouldn't like the idea of having to set up a second team for this."

"He won't have to," Buddy said, giving the men what he hoped was a very serious expression on his face. "Because I intend to lead the secondary team into the facility."

For a moment, neither Torano or Piper said anything. Piper seemed surprised at Buddy's proposal, but it was Torano's reaction that intrigued Buddy. It was obvious the man approved of the idea, but he did have some concerns.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Piper finally asked. "After all, you did decimate Mexico City."

"Don't see what the problem is," Buddy replied. "It's not like I'm going to advertise that it's me." _At least not yet, anyway, _he silently added. _For once, I think I'll let someone take credit for the bloodshed; it just sucks that poor Horton and his crew will be among the victims._

However, that was of no consequence to Buddy. After all, it was just part of the plan.

_And Horton dying as a martyr for the cause is a fitting way to get rid of him._

* * *

_**Downtown Metroville, California**_

Jean-Paul Renard aka the nova elite mercenary called Bomber sighed as he parked his motorcycle in front of the bank and dismounted. He was still trying to get over the chaotic turns his life had gone through in the last few weeks, which was saying something given his line of work. If someone had told Jean two months ago that he would be back in Metroville, California working a long term contract for a shadowy employer who had a surgically implanted explosive chip in his head he would have asked them what drugs they were on and inform them that their delusions sounded like a plot from a really shitty screenplay.

Except now, here he was; two months later, back in the cesspool known as California, working a long term contract for a shadowy employer who had, indeed, surgically implanted an explosive chip in his head. He kept running it through his head over and over again, trying to figure out where all this trouble started. He narrowed it down to the day those two Utopia agents hired him to target that nova speedster and test her abilities. It was kind of embarrassing, letting him get is ass kicked, but it was easiest million he ever made.

Then he learned, if his source was being truthful, that Utopia did not hire him any such job. Of course, he didn't know that back then and really didn't care, preferring to blow some of his newly acquired cash on a glider-pack he was designing. He then headed up to the San Francisco Bay Area, testing his glider-pack by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge and putting the video footage up on his website. However, his glider trip through the bay area was interrupted by some crazy nut job in armor that trashed the San Francisco waterfront and proceeded to murder San Francisco's nova hero team, The Protectors. Despite his better judgment, Jean got involved and saved the one surviving member of the Protectors team, pissing off the asshole in black armor who decided to drop a building on Jean.

The next thing Jean remembered was waking up in a hospital ward with Utopia nova agents surrounding him and practically accusing him of murdering The Protectors. Of course, they also had him hopped up on enough drugs to give an entire college campus a sustained high, so he didn't care too much…except for the fact he kept getting hit in the face.

Then that was when shit got really weird and Totentanz and Slapstick showed up. Apparently, word got out to various nova Elites that Jean was in the hospital and some decided to collect the "pot" of money that had been placed on Jean's head. From what he understood, the pot was only up to six million, and most self-respecting Elites wouldn't go for something under ten million…unless Jean had pissed them off (which was a very long list, but most of those were waiting for the pot to reach ten million).

Totentanz' appearance wasn't surprising. Even though he was considered possibly the most dangerous Elite out there and going after someone like Jean for a paltry six million could be considered "slumming" by some, others knew it was more personal. Totentanz saw Jean's irreverent approach to the mercenary trade as a blight on the ranks of the nova Elite as a whole. But there was something else; Jean-Paul Renard had the distinction of being the one "failure" in Totentanz' career. While many of the Elites considered Jean an embarrassment to their profession, they still respected him for being the one person Totentanz couldn't kill.

Slapstick aka Nick DeYorke, Jean's best friend, rival, and occasional enemy was another story altogether. A confirmed psychopath, Nick showing up to kill Jean wasn't a surprise either. In fact, Jean was certain that Nick's warped mind would have led him to believe he was giving his rival a good death instead of letting an asshole like Totentanz get the kill on a weakened foe. And, of course, with Jean heavily sedated and pumped full of 'mox, Nick had a fair chance at actually killing him.

Except, things didn't work out that way.

Totentanz and Slapstick were taken down and Jean got hit in the face and knocked out cold several more times. A few weeks later, he found himself here...in Metroville.

_I hate this town...too many damn heroes...egotistical people...overpriced coffee..._

He made his way towards the entrance of the bank, but stopped when he noticed the Starbucks next to the bank.

_Fuck it...I'll get a mocha first._

Ten minutes later, Jean walked out of the Starbucks, sipping his peppermint mocha as he walked back towards the bank. He took a moment to savor the taste and allowed himself a chance to relax a little and enjoy it.

_Okay, _he thought, _maybe my life is in a shitty spot right now but it could be much worse. So what if I'm stuck on a job I don't want, at least I'm being paid and my employer is providing me a place to live._

He had to snicker at that thought. His "living arrangement" was somewhere in the warehouse district at Metroville's shipping port. On the other hand, to be fair to his employer, his accommodations were fairly comfortable even if they were in a warehouse. It also helped that his employer made sure Jean had a workshop there so he could build, modify, or repair any equipment he might need. Overall, the arrangement wasn't bad at all.

However, Jean didn't like this kind of "long term" job, even if it did come with some really nice perks. He preferred the short term "extraction" job; get in, take the objective, get out, get paid, and then blow the cash on the next extreme sports tour or stunt he wanted to do for his video blog. That's how it was supposed to be. He wasn't supposed to be stuck in a long term contract with a vague objective.

_Unfortunately, with that damn chip in my head waiting to fry my ass, not much I can do about it at this moment._

He took another sip of his mocha as he reached the entrance to the bank, pulled open the door, and went inside.

_So, just lie low, withdraw some money from the account for grocery shopping, and then swing by the SST building and scope it out. Oh well…I suppose it could be worse._

"YOU!" somebody screamed, snapping Jean back to reality and bringing his attention to the four masked figures pointing guns at him. "On the floor," one of them commanded, "now!"

_Oh…fuck…you gotta' be joking…_


	17. And the world still turns and burns IV

Disclaimer: As usual, don't own Aberrant or The Incredibles. That would be White Wolf and Disney/Pixar.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the short chapter, but lost part of it, then decided that it would be better if I included that in the next chapter. Besides, I felt Bomber deserved to have some of the spotlight. And to be honest, I just kind of went with the flow on this, trying to throw in a few crazy twists here and there and have a little fun. Believe it or not, this is supposed to be one of the "lighthearted chapters".

And as always, thanks to the crazy people who stick around for this crazy ride...including that guy from the Russian Federation and all those readers from other countries who seem to keep hitting my fic on a regular basis. I don't know how or why I attracted you people to my story, but thank you. And, of course, I want to thank people like PegasusCrystal, the Plothook crew, NullChronicler, Rubypaladin, and the psychotic (but lovely and talented) ShannonK who have been with me since the beginning of "Awkward Times".

And now, on with the show...

* * *

_Some believe that chaos is the result of irrational actions taken by those who perform such actions for no reason at all other out of some sick and perverted need for pleasure. That may be true in some cases, but chaos, most of the time, is merely a tool in the hands of those who use it was a means to mask their actions or who and what they truly are. The people hired to serve as instruments to carry out that chaos are merely pawns for those who hide in the shadows._

_However, true chaos is unpredictable and, sometimes, may throw something in the mix that eventually poisons everything the perpetrators of chaos had intended._

_-Pedro Santiago, The Mathematician_

* * *

_Okay, this sucks._

Jean had been in many situations where he was at gunpoint. After all, in his line of work, that was pretty much the way people said 'hello'. Having guns pointed at him was nothing new and, quite frankly, he'd be disappointed if his enemies didn't try to shoot him at least once. However, this was the first time where he found himself being shoved to the ground while his peppermint mocha splashed to the floor in front of him.

_I can't believe it; I'm actually in the middle of a bank robbery! Oh, c'mon, God…a bank robbery? Seriously, why something so mundane and lame?_

"Alright, everybody stay down," one of the masked gunmen commanded, causing Jean to roll his eyes in irritation at the standard 'bank robbery' cliché term used mostly in really bad action movies with big budgets and explosions. "No heroics and you all get out of this alive."

_Dear Mr. Bruckheimer, I just want you to know that your movies' action sequences are good but your dialogue still sucks!_

"Three, Four, how are the cash drawers looking?" The lead gunman asked.

"Codes bypassed and we are stylin', Number One," said one of other gunmen who was loading shoving cash into a gym bag while another one quietly nodded and gave a thumbs up before helping his compatriot empty the rest of the cash drawers.

"Good to hear," the man identified as Number One said. "We got two minutes people. Two! How's the vault looking?"

Jean tried his best to look panicked, but was failing miserably at hiding his disgust.

_Fucking amateurs…Two minutes and you expect to hit the bank vault?_

"Well, Number One," replied a woman's voice. Jean turned his head in her direction, intrigued by the slight accent of her voice. "It's a very complex system, but," Number Two paused as she put her hand up vault door, "let's corrode this thing a few thousand years, shall we?"

Because of his angle on the floor, Jean couldn't see what the woman was doing other than the fact she was standing in front of the vault door. Then he saw the door begin to buckle and parts of it rapidly disintegrate before collapsing into a pile of rubble.

"Oh fuck…a nova…" Jean groaned. He was rewarded with boot to the middle of his back.

"Yeah, a nova," Number One snarled, pushing the muzzle of his gun against the base of Jean's skull. "And you best keep your racism to yourself or I'll put a bullet in your skull and remove one obnoxious baseline monkey off the planet."

"_Obnoxious baseline monkey"…shit, jumping to conclusions already, aren't we, pal? Well, you just fucked up. From the way you're talking, I'm guessing you're a nova too, as are the two idiots emptying the cash drawers because any nova putting that much hate into the word 'monkey' probably wouldn't lower himself to work with baselines. Then again, you probably should have gone with a baseline crew, they would have been more competent._

A slow smile formed on Jean's lips as his mind began to formulate a plan.

_Okay, let's see how calm and collected the leader of this group is._

"You just fucked up, Number One," he said. The boot in the middle of his back pushed down harder. "Ow, damn."

"And how, exactly, is that?"

Jean caught movement from one of the bank guards on the floor and gave him a slight nod. The guard, after a moment, nodded back. "Well," he said, flicking his wrist and causing a tiny small-sphere to come loose out of its small tiny compartment in the sleeve of his jacket and roll into his hand, "you took me hostage for starters." The tiny ball rolled out of his hand and onto the floor, continuing to roll a half-dozen feet.

"Oh yeah, why's that?"

*BANG*

There was no flash and no real explosion. After all, it was just a noisemaker that Jean used for distracting his enemies. And it was enough to cause Number One to suddenly spin and look in the direction of the noise. Jean twisted grabbing the barrel of the gun and pulling hard as he rolled over. The gun involuntarily went off, bullets hitting the ground next to him. Number One was still holding onto his weapon when he lost balance and started to fall forward when Jean entangled the man's legs with his own.

"Motherfu-" That was all the robber managed to say before Jean head-butted him as he came down. There was a sickening crunch and Jean allowed himself a smile as he rolled and got back on his feet, pulling the gun away from Number One as he went to reach for his broken nose.

The two robbers emptying the cash drawers brought their weapons up as Jean pointed Number One's weapon back at them. Then they suddenly lowered their weapons and Jean smiled. "Smart choice, losers," he said. "Now drop them. Oh and tell your babe in the vault to come out slow-"

*BANG*

*BANG*

*BANG*

The first shot hit him in the back, a slight sting and catching him more by surprise than actually hurting him. The second shot tagged him in the shoulder, the impact spinning him around. The third shot nailed him in the chest and he dropped to the floor, a look of disbelief on his face at the bank guard holding a .45 and then reaching down to help Number One to his feet.

"What…the…hell…" he managed to cough out along with some blood.

"Dammit, Joey," the bank guard snapped. "That fucker's right, you blew it." The guard's body suddenly began to partially melt and morph before reforming into a young woman with blond hair still wearing the guard's uniform, though the clothes now seemed baggy and loose on her.

"You're the one who said the area would be secure, Lucy. And how was I to know this guy wasn't going to play hero?"

Jean simply lay there, keeping a blank look on his face. Obviously, they thought he was dead or dying and were now focusing on arguing.

_Fucking amateurs,_ _this is no way to do a robbery. Okay...the pain's gone; hopefully none of those assholes will look close enough and see the wounds are starting to heal up. Okay, we got novas doing a robbery, why?_

"You should have just shot him instead of letting him goad you," the woman now known as Lucy snapped. It was obvious that she was the leader.

"He did not goad me!"

"Trust me, I know goading and that was some serious goad-age."

"Excuse me," piped in another female voice coming from the direction of the vault. It was the nova who had broken down the vault door. "If you two children are done fighting, we have what we came for."

_Okay, so this wasn't just a simple robbery. What the hell is going on here?_

"Okay," Lucy said, raising her gun and firing a couple rounds as she turned to face the rest of the hostages, "everyone listen up! You can hear the sirens outside which means the cops will be here any minute. Now I need all of you to behave like the lemmings you are and start running for the exit in…" she looked down at her watch, "five, four, three, two, one….run!"

Nobody moved, still looking at her and her fellow criminals in terror.

"Perhaps I didn't make it clear," she said and then fired a full burst of rounds in the air, emptying the gun's magazine. "RUN!"

And, like a herd of lemmings, the hostages ran for exit, a couple of them trampling on Jean.

_OW! Why is it always the really fat people that step on me?_

Number One or, as Jean mentally tagged him, Joey (the loser with the broken nose), locked the door after the last of the hostages ran out and then activated the security door that slid down and sealed off the bank entrance. He then tapped in a code on the keypad next to the door before shooting it. "Okay, Luce, main entrance is sealed and it's going to take them awhile to breach it, even with nova support."

Lucy the shape-shifter chuckled. "Wonderful thing for banks these days," she said, "Nova-proofing a bank so they can't easily break out of it when the seals are engaged."

"Or get in," said Number Two who pulled her mask off to reveal red spiky hair. She then held up a chip. "I hope this was worth it."

Lucy smiled as she took the chip and from the other woman and looked at it. "Oh, it was Sheryl, trust me on this." She then looked down at Jean and shook her head, unaware that he was still alive. "Too bad you had to play hero, baby. You look like you might have been fun in bed."

_Lady, you have no idea how fun it's going to get. The only reason I'm not getting up yet is because I want to know how you're getting out of here._

Lucy then turned to "Three" and "Four" who were now walking over to various sections of the bank. "Taylor, Marks, how are the explosives going?"

_Explosives? Oh shit, this can't be good._

"Three minutes starting now, Luce," one of them said.

"Okay, everyone in the vault. Sheryl, start digging."

"Already on it, bosslady," the redhead cheerfully said.

Jean waited until he heard them take off toward the vault before propping himself up.

_Okay, not good, they're blowing the bank and I got,_ he got up and looked over at one of the explosives stuck to a pillar in the lobby, _a little over two minutes. Shit, I can see at least five of these devices and I can't get them all. But this one…the pillar goes and the floors above this come crashing down. Alright, maybe these assholes aren't amateurs after all._

He smiled grimly as he pulled a tiny screwdriver out of his belt buckle and proceeded to disarm the bomb.

_Time to fuck up their plans…there, that one's disabled._

He glanced at one of the other timers and saw that there was a minute and thirty seconds left.

_Okay, looks like those are fairly low yield compared to this one. Those were probably meant to do minor damage while this one blew out the pillar._

A faint rumbling caught his attention and he heard the redhead cheerfully shout, "Admit it, I am fucking awesome!"

A remark that was promptly followed up by someone saying, "Aw, man, it smells like shit!"

"Well, duh, it's the sewer system."

For a moment, Jean toyed with the idea of just finding a secure and relatively safe place to wait out the explosions, but the pissed off part of him wanted to know what the hell he walked into.

_Okay you bastards, time for payback._

He waited until the timer on the other bombs hit fifteen seconds and then bolted for the vault, unaware of one of the newly installed hidden secondary security cameras recording him. Inside the vault, he found a gaping hole in the floor and in the ground underneath. He had just jumped into it when the bombs went off, the ground shaking violently as he fell down the rest of the way before landing in ankle deep water.

_Ewwww…it does smell like shit down here. Oh yeah, it looks like this flow is coming from City Hall._

He pulled a small flashlight out of his jacket and found a small utility walkway with still wet footprints on it. He could also hear echoes of their voices.

"Yep, there she blows," he heard Joey (the loser with the broken nose) say.

"Wait," this was from either Number Three or Number Four. "It didn't sound right."

"What do you mean it didn't sound right? Who cares? We're almost home free."

"But I don't think they all went off."

"So what, that was just a diversion anyway. We'll be gone by the time they figure things out. All they're going to find is the dead guy…well…parts of him at least."

_Joey, I am so going to beat the shit out of you when I catch up with you._

* * *

Lucy Quintaine, also known as the nova criminal called Legion-22, grinned as she looked at the chip that had the Pine Industries logo on it. She wasn't sure why it was so valuable, but someone was willing to pay her crew fifteen million to heist it. With the exception of strange man who stumbled into their robbery and tried to stop it, it went off without a hitch. They were able to make their way down into the old sewer system and then into an abandoned subway section where they had stashed a change of clothes earlier along with the rest of their gear. Twenty minutes from the time they escaped through the vault, five people dressed up as city workers used a service tunnel to enter into an active part of the subway system which, predictably, had been shut down during the emergency.

"Pretty damn predictable," she said, smiling at her crew. "With any luck, we'll be on our way off to Ibiza in time for the festivities." That was when she noticed Taylor, their resident demolition expert, was looking a little concerned. "Something wrong, Tay?"

"I'm not sure, boss, but something didn't feel right when it went off."

Lucy frowned at that. Taylor was one of the best demo experts she worked with. If he was worried about something, then that meant there could really be a problem. "Okay, Tay, let's keep walking down the line until we get to the terminal. Then I'll check with a transit cop."

A few minutes later, they made it to a subway terminal and took a short flight of steps to the platform where various commuters were waiting, obviously confused by the sudden emergency shut-down. Lucy saw a transit security officer nearby and nodded at him, putting an irate look on her face as he approached. "What the hell happened?" she asked. "We were down there doing some survey work when the ground shook and the power cut off in the 'Old Town' district."

The transit cop went from angry to being concerned. "There weren't any more of you down there, were you?"

"No, just the five of us," Lucy said. "We started clearing out when the ground started shaking. It felt like a damn earthquake!"

"Then you don't know," the man said.

"Know what?"

"Someone hit Metro Bank in Old Town, blew up part of the bottom floor. Luckily the damn thing didn't collapse or you probably wouldn't be here talking to me." The man then paused as he listened to something coming from his radio earpiece. "Okay, that was the MTA, they're restoring power, but restricting some routes." He shook his head and frowned. "These commuters are going to be pissed when I make the announcement that they're going to have to transfer over to the Colby station."

Lucy gave the man a sympathetic nod and watched him walk away and begin to lead the small crowd of commuters back up the steps that led out of the terminal. Then she turned to the others. "Okay, so the building didn't collapse, that means the main pillar didn't go. Taylor, I know you aren't one to fuck up like this. Is there a possibility that you might have used faulty equipment?"

"Luc, I tested that equipment and some of that batch before we did this, there's no way I could have screwed up."

"Unless," Marks said, speaking up for the first time since they left the bank, "it was disarmed."

"By who?" Joey asked. "We cleared everyone out."

"Not everyone." Marks' tone was serious.

For a moment, nobody else realized what he was getting at. It was Joey who came to the conclusion first. "Wait," he said, "you can't mean the dead guy, right? Lucy shot him three times."

"Hold on, he has a point," Lucy said. "He seemed pretty confident the way he moved and took you down, Joey. The only thing he seemed surprised at was me shooting him."

"Lucy, the guy's dead, we saw him bleed out and die."

"True," Lucy admitted, "but what if he didn't-" She was cut off as she heard something that sounded like a pebble or rock hitting the floor. She turned to look at the direction the noise and saw what appeared to be a large emerald green marble rolling in their direction. The hairs on the back of her neck didn't start to rise in warning until she noticed the faint glow. "Down!" she screamed.

But the warning was too late, the "marble" exploding and the concussive force from the blast throwing her and her team in multiple directions. She managed to roll with the impact and managed to land in a crouch, but her vision was still blurry from the flash of the device.

"Son of a bitch!" she heard Joey scream followed by several shots. "This time you're going to fucking stay down!"

* * *

Jean had wasted no time following the crew through the sewers and then the subway system. When he caught up to them, he stayed in the shadows, formulating a plan. He waited until the transit cop cleared the area of bystanders before he moved in and dropped his own version of a concussive "flash-bang" on the little group. Joey, much to Jean's delight, fell off the platform and onto the tracks. However, Jean was surprised at how quickly Joey recovered and pointed his gun at him.

"Son of a bitch! This time you're going to fucking stay down!"

Jean easily dodged the hail of bullets, dropping low as he moved in, everything seeming to go in slow motion around him as his enhanced perception and accelerated reflexes kicked in. He grabbed the barrel of the gun and shoved it back, impacting Joey's face and sending the man stumbling backwards.

"MOTHERFUCK-AAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

The sound of crackling electricity followed by a stench of burnt flesh filled the air as Joey was electrocuted on the subway's third rail. While the rest of Joey's team looked on in stunned silence, Jean used their moment of hesitation to jump onto the platform and send a throwing knife at the redhead who, to Jean's surprise, caught it and smiled at him as the knife began to rust, crumble, and disintegrate into dust.

"Okay, that was just plain rude," the redhead said, sounding more like a young woman who had her feelings hurt instead of nearly taking a knife to the head. "Now I'll probably have to kill you."

"You guys tried that once already," Jean said, "remember?"

The one called Lucy shook her head as she stood up, the fingers on her hands fusing together as her hands began to extend and flatten into a pair of sharp blades. "Well," she smirked, "guess I'll cut off your head to make sure."

"No," hissed a gravelly voice behind Jean. "This fucker is mine."

Jean slowly turned his head and looked back at the railroad tracks where Joey the Loser's body should have been smoking, but instead saw the semi-burned man stand up…and begin to grow, his skin turning to scales, and fingers turning into claws while his head became more lizard-like.

"Oh fuck," Jean muttered as he watched the hulking humanoid lizard creature climb onto the platform, "this is not good."

"Wait a second." Every one stopped to look at the black man who was staring at Jean with a curious look. "I know who this guy is. Don't you recognize him?"

"Care to enlighten us, Marks?" Lucy asked.

"That's Jean-Paul Renard."

Joey the Loser (now mentally tagged by Jean as "Joey the Lizard Guy") stopped dead in his tracks. "Wait, Jean-Paul Renard?" Then his glowing yellow eyes widened in recognition and his mouth broke into a big toothy grin. "As in Bomber, the 'Bomber's Bay' guy? No way! I just got in a fight with Bomber? That's fucking awesome!" He then leaned forward. "Love your show, dude, but I don't like that Slapstick fucker who's filling in for you."

"Fine, he's Bomber," Lucy snapped before focusing her attention on Jean. "And what was an Elite like you doing at that bank?"

"Bad timing?" Jean offered, hands raised in a non-offensive gesture. "Had I known there was a heist going on, I would have stayed at Starbucks."

"He's also worth six million if we kill him," Marks added.

"He is?" Joey the Lizard glanced at Marks who nodded and then focused back on Jean. "Sorry, man. Love your show, but six million for killing you is a lot better." He then lunged forward, swiping at Jean with a clawed hand that probably would have ripped Jean in half if he hadn't suddenly done the splits and sent a fist into the monster's crotch. Joey stumbled back a couple steps and then looked down as Jean rolled away. "What the hell! Did you just try to 'Johnny Cage' me?"

"Yeah, I did," Jean admitted, shaking his hand out to make sure he didn't break any fingers. "Actually, I figured it probably wouldn't work, but the other thing would."

"What other-"

The small flashing silver ball attached to Joey the Lizard's crotch exploded, along with Joey's upper body that sent reptilian skin, muscle, and bone fragments flying in multiple directions. Jean rolled with the explosion, catching some of the shrapnel, but managed to roll into a crouched landing from which he jumped into a run and made his way towards the steps leading out of terminal. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into, and he didn't care.

_Whatever it was, I want no part in it. Just get the fuck out of there and figure it out later._

He reached the top of the steps and broke into a dead run...only to suddenly stop in his tracks and raise his hands in the air when he realized he was staring at several police cars and one SWAT vehicle along with a few dozen police officers pointing their guns at him.

_Dammit...this really sucks!_

* * *

Lucy managed to shift her body to an armored form, deflecting the shrapnel and body parts while Sheryl merely stood there as the fragments that hit her merely disintegrated on impact. Unfortunately, Marks and Taylor got the worst of it since they were closest to Joey when he exploded. Both men were mowed down by the shrapnel, dying almost instantly.

For a few seconds, neither woman said anything, but simply stood there looking down at the remains of their fallen comrades. Finally, Lucy reverted back to her human form and sighed. "Well, look at this this way," she said, "fifteen million for the chip job breaks down into seven and a half for each of us."

Sheryl nodded in agreement. "True, but what about Renard?"

Lucy shrugged as she pulled the datachip out of her pocket. "He doesn't matter, we got the chip and now it's time to meet our client and get paid."

* * *

Ending Comments: If you want to know what it is Lucy and crew were after...read the last chapter of Aeon. As for their client...it's going to get ugly.


	18. And the world still turns and burns V

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant or The Incredibles, White Wolf and Pixar do.

Author's Notes: Okay...this is going to be kind of weird...it's a flashback chapter and sheds more light on the mystery of David's origins. Just want to warn you though, there's some mild "squicky" moments. Nothing too bad, but the dark implications might make some people uneasy. Keep in mind, in my twisted 'verse, Buddy is always evil...no matter what incarnation he's in. Just remember that.

* * *

_"If There Were No God, It Would Be Necessary To Invent Him."_

-Voltaire

_"God is real, but what scares me is that there are beings out here that think they might be able to compete with him and the fact they aren't emotionally equipped for the job and they're gonna' really screw it up."_

-Duke Rollo

* * *

**_Syndrome Software and Technologies_**

**_Metroville, California_**

David never believed himself infallible. Contrary to what the Utopia-biased media claimed, he never saw himself as 'perfect', 'all-powerful', or 'all-knowing'; there were plenty of arrogant novas out there (most of them on Utopia's payroll) who made those kind of claims, but not him. And while he could admit that he could be a little arrogant at times, David never believed himself to be infallible. However, he did pride himself on being prepared to deal with most situations or adapt to whatever surprises life threw at him.

However, even that didn't prepare him for bombshell Saunders had just dropped on him.

David said nothing for a couple seconds, mentally dealing with the revelation Saunders just threw at him and then spending a few more seconds trying to realize what this meant.

"You were there," he finally said. He meant it as a question, but it came out as a simple statement. "At the island, you were there."

Saunders nodded. "Yes," he replied, "but it wasn't like I had much of a choice." He leaned forward in his chair and drummed his fingers on the top of David's desk, a distant look in his eyes as he thought about the past. "You have to understand, to save my daughter, I made a deal with the devil and the devil called in the favor."

"And what did my," David momentarily struggled to keep the venom out of his voice, "father have you do?"

Saunders grinned at him. "You really do hate him," he said, shaking his head. "You can hide it all you want David, but you actually learned true hatred." His smile faded a little. "And I'm sure you're going to hate me just as much. I'm sure you know about Project Phoenix and what Aeon had planned; but tell me, what do you know about yourself?"

"What is there to tell?" David asked with a shrug. "I'm a failed experiment that stumbled out of its lab."

"That's one way of putting it," Saunders chuckled, "but you are aware of what you are, correct?"

"I'm an engineered biological organism that was grown in a vat with a chip in his head whose early memories are nothing but data uploaded and downloaded from other sources. Again, what is there to tell? Pine wanted to play mad scientist and I'm the result…end of story."

"Actually, you were a bastardized version of an experiment being carried out by Aeon. Pine merely stole the research, did some of his own tweaking on it, and then launched his own project. Obviously, he took some shortcuts, but he went to extra lengths in other areas, but that's beyond my area of expertise. I specialize in robotics and programming, David, and that is what Pine wanted."

David's eyes widened as he realized what this meant. "He wanted an AI," he said, "something he could control in this engineered body he created."

"Yes, but you were much more than that." Saunders looked down at the desk again for a moment before looking back up at David. "You, or to be more precise, the AI algorithm was alive and aware in the Nomansian mainframe which was also linked to Aeon's network. That AI had access to everything, even some of Pine's early childhood memories which we managed to upload and use to provide a base algorithm. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what Buddy really had planned, especially when the body was engineered and the aging process was accelerated. He also periodically uploaded his own memories to an isolated part of his network that would only go active once he was confirmed dead."

David's eyes narrowed. "I was his back-up, wasn't I?"

"A back-up that, if things had gone as planned, would have had his full memories downloaded into that body. His knowledge and personality, integrated with all the information the AI had gathered from Aeon's network and combined with whatever unique abilities the engineered body had…" Saunders shuddered and shook his head again. "I'd hate to think how that would have played out." He looked back at David who simply leaned back in his chair. "I must say, David, you are taking this rather well."

"Actually, I suspected something like that and what you just told me confirms my suspicion. But," a puzzled look crossed David's face for a moment, "I'm curious...if I was aware that I had Buddy Pine's early memories, why am I not just new and improved copy of him?"

"That's would be my doing, kid. I knew what he wanted and I sure as hell didn't want another maniac on the loose, so I simply programmed the algorithm to learn, adapt, and ponder other courses of action. You knew that those early childhood memories were just a base, but you also knew you didn't have to follow along those parameters. And, while Pine only cared about getting his project ready, he didn't give a damn about the algorithm so long as it worked and it was stable. I also had no choice but to keep working on it."

"Why?"

"Given who you're father is what do you think he would have done to me if I informed him the project was done?"

"Ah." David nodded in understanding of what Saunders meant. "You would have outlived your usefulness."

"Add in the fact that he knew about my daughter and what I had done, I had no choice. I don't even want to think about what he would have done to her." Saunders gave David a sheepish grin. "I also liked living."

"Who doesn't," David replied with a grin of his own. "One question, my…" David hesitated again, "my mother, where did she figure into this? I notice you haven't said much about her. Given what Pine created me for, I doubt she went along willingly with this."

"She didn't." Saunders grin disappeared again as he seemed to remember something. "Pine took genetic material from her because she was the only available donor. And when she did find out about you...she didn't take it well, especially when she realized what you were meant for."

"Let me guess," David said, "she was going to pull the plug on me."

Saunders was silent for a few moments. "Probably," he finally said, "but something happened that changed everything. You opened your eyes and started pounding on the tank to get out."

Images suddenly flashed through David's mind, blurry images and muffled voices…and a sense of panic.

"_Oh god, it's __alive in there__!"_

_**LET ME OUT!**_

"_Melissa, wait! That's not Pine!"_

There was a flash, the sound of gunfire and then another flash of intense light…

David shook his head as he found himself back in the present. "Those weren't nightmares, were they?" he asked. "The dreams about being trapped, fighting for my life…those were memories."

Saunders sighed and sagged in his chair. To David, it looked as if the man had aged a few years within a period of seconds. "Those were real memories, David, perhaps your earliest from being in the "real world".

_This was a secret he kept to himself,_ David realized, _and it had been eating away at him all these years. _"My own mother tried to kill me," he said.

"In her defense, David, she was freaked out at what she found. I mean, how would you feel if you discovered someone had taken genetic material from you without your knowledge or consent and then used it for some freak science experiment? I'm not sure if she had intended to kill you when she fired those shots or if she meant to break you loose from the containment chamber."

"So what exactly happened?"

"To put it bluntly, David, the proverbial shit really hit the fan."

* * *

**_8 Years Ago_**

**_Nomansian Island_**

Mirage was always pragmatic when it came to the chaotic events that happened in her life. After all, growing up as a ward of the Aeon Found and being raised to serve the cause pretty much required such an attitude. However, these last two years on Nomansian, serving as Aeon's watchdog over Buddy Pine had her truly question the "cause" and wonder if they were really doing the right thing.

As far as Pine was concerned, Mirage was just an assistant Aeon had assigned to help him with Project KRONOS. In truth, she was meant to watch over him and keep him from going out of control. Initially, she had no problem with Pine capturing supers and then using them to test his mechanical creations. After all, if they were considered a threat to Aeon, they had to be dealt with because it was for the good of the world.

However, it was when the heroine Blazestone was kidnapped and eventually killed that Mirage had doubts. Blazestone had retired, was living a quiet life, and raising a daughter. Mirage didn't know why Aeon viewed the woman as a threat, but she did question Aeon. But when Jack Miller, the former super known as Gamma Jack and also a member of the Aeon Foundation was killed when he unexpectedly showed up at the island after Blazestone's death, Mirage began seriously question what was going on. She approached her mentor, Thetis, and asked her why Miller had been killed.

"Miller was going to betray us," Thetis had told her, "he was involved with Blazestone at one time and was going to reveal us to the public."

Mirage agreed with Thetis outwardly, but her doubts had now become silent defiance. Though she openly affirmed her loyalty to Thetis and Aeon, Mirage knew that something had to be done. She was merely one woman in an organization that quietly spanned the globe and hid behind a philanthropic facade, but she knew she couldn't be the only one who felt the way she did. Unfortunately, someone must have suspected her, or perhaps Pine had merely acted out his own mild case of paranoia. Shortly after her discussion with Thetis and returning to Nomansian, Pine approached her and excitedly informed her that he contracted "one of the finest minds in the field of Artificial Intelligence and robotics" and that they would be developing a new programming algorithm for the next generation of Omnidroids.

And that was when Buddy brought in the "expert"…her brother-in-law, Aaron Saunders. To make matters worse, Buddy insisted that Aaron's daughter, Bridgette, be brought to the island as well. Of course, on the surface, Buddy claimed that the girl was brought to the island because of her "unique intellectual qualities" and that the island's facilities would be able to help her, but the real message was clear to Mirage: "I have your brother-in-law and your niece on my island, and I will kill them if you try anything."

It also didn't help that Aaron refused to tell her what Pine had him working on, but she couldn't blame him. There was fear in his eyes whenever he talked to her, but she knew it was fear for his daughter, not for himself. The Aaron Saunders she knew would have told Pine to go fuck himself and proudly taken a bullet if it was himself involved, but it was his daughter he was concerned about. If her safety was concerned, the man would do anything to protect his little girl, even if it meant following the orders of a borderline sociopath.

Then things changed when Pine targeted Bob Parr and his family. Pine revealed his true colors to Mirage and pretty much shattered whatever loyalty she had for him (which wasn't much). The Parrs managed to escape and, with her help, made their way back to the mainland and stop the Omindroid from destroying the city. Because of the incident, Mirage knew the operation would be considered blown and gave out the evacuation order, as per Aeon protocol. She knew the authorities would be storming this place in a matter of hours and she wanted to make sure they got as little as possible.

"Clear out," she told the security heads who immediately ordered their respective groups to destroy key parts of their assigned areas and wipe any memory banks clean. Within two hours, they would be gone…long before any authorities would make it to the island.

"Um, ma'am," one of the techs said, getting her attention, "someone just overrode our self-destruct command."

_That's not possible,_ Mirage thought, _only Pine or myself had the abort command codes. He's not here and I sure as hell didn't order it._ "Are you sure they shut it down?" she asked.

"Actually, they didn't shut it down, they delayed it…oh crap." The tech started to frantically tap away on the keyboard, as did several others, some who silent started to utter obscenities under their breath. "Shit…we got another problem, ma'am. They're doing a massive emergency download dump."

"Where?" Though she was angered at the massive breach of security, Mirage had to give whoever it was hacking them credit. It was too bad that she would have to track them down and kill them. "Give me a location."

"That's just it, ma'am, it's an unrecognized user…from Diamond 7."

_Diamond 7…that's the project Aaron was working on. Aaron, what hell are you doing?_

"Where's Doctor Saunders?"

"He is currently making his way to Diamond 7 now and, according to security down there, he's freaking out, screaming that the download needs to be stopped."

Mirage ran from the command center and down the corridor to one of the elevators, pulling out her .45 auto-pistol from her jacket and unlocking the safety. As elevator made its way to Diamond Level, she was certain of one thing. Aaron knew what was going on was worried, worried enough that he was willing to risk being shot to stop whatever it was. When she reached Diamond Level, she ran to where lab seven was located. There was a security team there outside the doors of the lab, two of them restraining Aaron who was struggling to break free.

"You don't understand," he said, obvious panic in his voice, "you have to let me in there!"

"What's going on?" Mirage held her pistol up alongside her shoulder which caused the members of the security team to fidget a little. They had seen her at the gun range and knew how good of a shot she was and they also knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill a person if she deemed them a security risk.

"Ma'am, we caught this guy bypassing a security firewall and making his way down here when the evac-alert went out." Mirage couldn't help smiling at the calm and professional tone the guard had, despite the insanity going on around him.

"Trust me, if that download goes all the way through, you won't have to worry about a damn security firewall," Aaron snapped, "because he will kill all of us when he wakes up."

"Aaron, what's going on?" Mirage asked softly. She knew Aaron was not one for melodrama, so if he was freaking out and screaming that someone was going to kill them, that meant they probably would all be dead in a few hours…if they had that long.

"Melissa," Aaron said, pausing for a moment as he realized he made the mistake of using her real name before shaking his head. At this point, he probably figured a slip of the tongue was the least of his worries. "The algorithm I was working on, the same one that was used for the latest Omnidroid model…it went rogue!"

Mirage stepped forward, pulling her security card out of her jacket and swiping it through the card reader. She then tapped a code on the keypad before leaning forward so the retina scanner could scan her eye. "You two," she said, motioning with her hand at the guards. "Oversee the evacuation and make sure the rest of the protocols are in place."

Both guards took off, leaving Mirage and Aaron standing there. The LED screen flashed "Emergency Override Engaged" and the heavy door slowly began to hiss open. "Okay, Aaron," she said, "tell me what's going on."

Instead of answering, Aaron brushed past her and began to frantically tap in commands on a console by the door. After a few more seconds of frantic typing, Aaron sighed in relief as the dimly lit chamber began to brighten, revealing a large liquid filled cylinder in the room with several cables and tubes attached to or going in and out of it. "Okay, according to this, Pine's still alive which means Case Black was not triggered."

Mirage looked around at the lab, realizing that she had never actually been in this section before; but it was the body of what appeared to be a child floating in the tank that caused her to angrily turn around and grab Saunders by the throat and throw him against the wall. "What the fuck were you working on, Aaron!"

"Mel," Saunders managed to gasp as he rubbed his throat. "You have to believe me, it's not what you think."

"Really? Because it looks to me like you and Pine were experimenting on a child. So which super did you take this one from?" Mirage fought the urge to bring her pistol up and put a bullet in the man's kneecap. "Who's child is he?"

"Melissa, he wasn't taken from anyone, the boy was genetically engineered and grown in a vat here."

Mirage's blood ran cold as she remembered some of the other projects Aeon was working on at other locations. She had heard of this particular project before, but she couldn't believe they would let someone as unstable as Pine be involved. "Genesis? Those bastards at Aeon were running Genesis here!"

"Don't be stupid, Mel," Saunders snorted, "even Aeon isn't that crazy; no, Pine stole some of their research and carried out his own version on it."

"And you went along with this?" Mirage asked, her voice a dangerous snarl.

"No, dammit," Saunders snapped, still rubbing his throat, "I wasn't involved with that. Pine already had the specimen in development when I came onboard." His shoulders slumped in defeat as he looked back up at his sister-in-law. "He only brought me on board for this because he wanted me to create an open-ended algorithm that could be encoded with data which could be uploaded into a chip in that kid's brain."

"An open-ended algorithm," Mirage repeated, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "An AI, you mean."

"Yes," Aaron tapped a couple keys on the terminal, looking on in disbelief. "And this AI just tried to engineer an escape."

"What do you mean, Aaron? How could it escape?"

"It was linked to the Omnidroid Pine sent to Metroville and it knocked the control unit from Pine's arm. It then tried to destroy the control unit."

"Why?" Mirage asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked a voice that came through the room's intercom system. It was a child's voice, but there was something in the voice that was cold, clinical, machine-like.

A three dimensional hologram suddenly materialized in front of them, taking the form of the boy inside the tank, but wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He had unruly light red hair, but it was the green eyes and the tiny smirk on his lips that suddenly caused Mirage's blood to run cold. She recognized the eyes and the smirk right away…she saw them almost every time she looked in a mirror.

The boy tilted his head slightly to one side, the smirk never leaving his face. "He wants out," the boy said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb at the body in the tank. "Except, I'm not ready yet." He then looked down at his body and frowned. "Oh yeah, definitely not ready," he added with a chuckle before looking back up at Mirage. "Oh, hi there," he said before giving her a sinister and toothy grin, "Mom."

Mirage raised her gun and pointed at the hologram. "What the hell are you?" she asked, her voice a mixture of horror and rage at what she suspected. She felt a hand on her shoulder, gently trying to pull her away.

"Melissa, we need to leave now…that's not the AI, it's-" Saunders suddenly screamed as an electrical bolt hit him and threw him back against the wall near his terminal where he crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"Aaron!" Mirage started to run over to help Saunders when another electrical bolt hit the ground in front of her.

"Uh-uh, we need to have a chat, mommy," the hologram snickered. "Besides, the Doc's not dead, yet…apparently that little cyber-bastard he created is preventing me from fully accessing the lethal weapon systems. Otherwise, Saunders and that little retarded daughter of his would be ashes by now."

Angrily, Mirage turned and brought her gun up, pointing at the hologram's head out of instinct before her mind told her that there really wasn't anyone there. "I will ask you again," her voice a dangerous growl, "what are you?"

"Isn't it obvious, Mirage? I'm the product of genetic material taken from you and Buddy Pine, thrown in a tube, engineered, genetically tweaked, and then transferred to a bigger vat to cook in." The cold smirk returned as he seemed to realize something. "Of course, the AI, which is me, is a template of Buddy Pine which is trying to prepare for a final download…but then I guess that makes you my mother and me my own father." He paused and shuddered for a moment. "Ewww…that's definitely a 'squickety' moment."

A robotic arm suddenly swung down from the ceiling and knocked Mirage to the floor, forcing her to drop her gun.

"Sorry about that," the hologram said. "But you're just too dangerous to leave armed at the moment. Oh, and if you want to call me something, call me BJ. My official designation is Case Black, which Aaron shouldn't have told you about, but I guess there's no real harm done since I plan on killing him pretty soon anyway. I may have to kill you too, but I promise it will be quickly."

"What do you want?"

"Oh, what the original Buddy Pine wants," BJ replied with another grin. "Money, fame, power, respect, blah, blah, blah…except I know a hell of a lot more than he does about Aeon and what's going to happen. Like Project Phoenix, for example."

Mirage's eyes widened in horror. "No, you are not involved with that."

"Newsflash, babe," the holographic ten year old sneered, "I AM involved. What I hadn't planned on was your asshole brother-in-law growing a rogue AI and letting that thing take up residence in MY new body while I was sitting in an isolated server periodically updated only remotely and linked by the weakest connections." Then he smiled at her again as four more robotic arms descended from the ceiling, each grabbing her by a limb. "But then you had to trigger the evac order and little Adam panicked…began a massive download dump and started trashing security measures in his bid to escape, which allowed me to get out of my cage. And for that, Mirage, I thank you. Now, before I kill you quickly, how about you speak the final authorization code for the mainframe self-destruct sequence for me?"

"Go to hell," Mirage snapped, spitting at the hologram.

"Damn," BJ chuckled, "you really can be hot blooded under the right circumstances. Almost makes me glad I got a copy of your memory somewhere. Granted, it's a little out of date…just with a little bit of re-writing and when I get another base set up, I think I'll make a playmate…but I'll make her a little more agreeable." He paused for a moment to let what he said sink in. "That's right; I took more than just your genetic material while you were sleeping. Now…the codes, please?"

"Fuck you."

"Wow…such language. Okay, I tried to be nice but I guess we go the torture route." BJ snapped his fingers and the four metallic limbs discharged a barrage of electricity, causing her to scream for a few seconds as the current tore through he body. He stared at her for a few moments as her body involuntarily twitched. "You know, I think I got a hard-on from watching you thrash around like that. Now…the codes."

Though pain still surged through her body and her throat was raw from screaming, Mirage managed to raise her head and look BJ in the eye. "No," she rasped.

"You know you will break. You know that, right? After all, the human body can only take so much punishment. I can't just outright kill you, but I can make you wish you were dead."

"Leave her alone." It was BJ's voice, but it sounded different…almost angry and defiant. Mirage looked up and saw another hologram of BJ standing there several feet behind him…except this one was wearing what appeared to be gray sweat pants and a sweatshirt.

BJ straightened up a little bit, smiling. "Well, well, well," he said as he turned to look at the newcomer. "I was wondering if you were going to come out and play. Guess you didn't like sitting in that little body in the tank and watching this happen."

"I'm not going to die here," the other boy said. "I want out."

"That's where you're wrong, Adam," BJ said, chuckling softly. "If anyone's getting out of here, it's me. You're just an inconvenient pest that's in the way. You kept the body warm and the brain tissue active, which I appreciate, but now it's time for you to go."

"No."

BJ sighed, head hung in disappointment for a second before looking up at the other boy. "I'm sorry," he said, blurring for a split second before stopping right in front of Adam to deliver a right hook that sent him sprawling to the ground. "You don't have a choice in the matter."

The robotic arms holding Mirage released their grip on her, dropping her in a semi-conscious heap on the ground. She raised her head to see BJ kicking the other boy. Then she heard a soft tapping of keys and turned to see Saunders, who had apparently regained consciousness and managed to get back to his feet, quickly punching in sequences on the terminal keyboard.

_What's he doing?_

"Establishing Aeon Omega connection," a cool female voice spoke over the facility's intercom system. Mirage coldly noted that the voice sounded a lot like her own.

_What else did that sick bastard take from me?_

BJ, meanwhile, was beating the crap out of the other AI hologram when he heard the announcement. "What the hell," he said, straightening himself up and kicking Adam one more time before turning in the direction, "I'm not ready." Then his gaze fell on Saunders. "Oh no you don't, asshole," he snarled, commanding the metallic arms to go after Saunders, one of the them managing to grab the man and pin him against the wall.

Mirage grabbed her gun that was nearby on the ground and fired several shots at the hologram as it approached her. Then she realized the futility of her action as the bullets passed through the hologram who stopped and looked down at his chest before looking at her.

"Damn, babe, you were actually trying to kill me." BJ laughed in amusement and nodded. "I am impressed…seriously, you are willing to kill in cold blood. Okay, it's decided. When I get my body and engineer the other one, I am soooo keeping that quality for your replacement." With a gesture of his left hand, one of the other robotic arms suddenly reached out and grabbed Mirage by the throat. "Y'know," he said as he watched Mirage struggle to break out of the arm's grasp, "it suddenly occurred to me that there is an easy way to get the codes." Melissa heard another robotic limb rearing up behind her and then cried out in pain as she felt a needle-like object piercing the back of her neck and linking to the base of her skull. "Don't fight it, Melissa," he said softly. "I'm just going to jack in, sift through your brain, keep what I like, dump the rest, and pull out. Granted, you'll be a vegetable, but I promise the new you will be a slammin' hot babe and much better."

BJ then looked at Saunders. "As for you, Aaron, I'm just going to have you drawn and quartered once I get the codes. And then…I think I'll experiment with your daughter. Having those little nanites running through her brain might be useful." Then his expression became more sinister. "Maybe I won't have to engineer a new body for Mirage's replacement from scratch after all. You only scratched the surface with your nanotech…and I'm going to enjoy pushing it to its full potential." His gaze then fell to Saunder's outstretched hand that was struggling to hit the Enter key on the keyboard that was only inches from his fingers. He shook his head and grinned. "Sorry, Doc…so close but so far," he chuckled. "Besides, what would be the point of that? At this stage, the Omega download would have taken both me and your precious Adam out like a dam breaking…washing us away…diluting us…rendering us apart. And I know you wouldn't destroy your own creation since it's sentient."

Suddenly Adam rematerialized in front of BJ, beaten and bloody from the injuries the other AI inflicted on him. "Then it's too bad for you he transferred control of that option to me."

For a moment, fear rippled across BJ's face, then it disappeared as he laughed at the other hologram. "Nice try, boy," he chuckled. "Seriously, you expect me to believe that shit? After all the hard work you put in to try to 'escape' and 'become a real boy'?" He shook his head, his grin never leaving his face. "Nice try, Pinnochio, but you don't have the guts to do it."

"It's not about guts," Adam said, a sad look on his face. "It's greed…if I can't get out, neither can you." He glanced at the large screen above the video terminal and a series of numbers flashed across it: 2723M2473W93A9268 2I737838D669.

"Code Accepted," the cool female voice said. "Beginning download."

"NO!" BJ screamed as he and Adam were both hit with a swarm of data, but that didn't stop from attacking the other boy again. "You can't do this, you'll kill us both!"

"Then I guess it sucks to be us," Adam replied as he started fighting back.

The arms holding Saunders and Mirage suddenly went limp, the needle withdrawing from Mirage's neck as she dropped back to the ground. Still a little groggy from being momentarily linked to a machine, Mirage managed to look at the two holographic boys fighting each other as some sort of blue-green haze started to surround them. Maybe it was the partial blood loss and she was hallucinating, but the haze looked like it was comprised of numbers, letters, and encrypted symbols. The green haze started to thicken around them like a fog and then she noticed that both boys looked like they were beginning to "fray" along the edges. She saw BJ punch the other boy in the jaw and then panic as his hand seemed to disintegrate on impact, as if it were dust being blown away by a gust of wind.

"Fuck this!" BJ screamed, jumping away from his opponent and momentarily free of the blue-green mist that now looked like random encrypted data that one would see flying across a computer screen. Then he flashed out of existence.

"Case Black AI initiating emergency data retrieval and quarantine," the cool female voice of the computer system said.

Saunders was back up and frantically typing away on the keyboard. "No, Adam…it can't end like this." After a few more seconds of tapping on keys, the "data haze" dissipated, leaving a beaten and bloody Adam on the floor, flickering in and out of existence. "Hold on kid."

The remaining hologram looked up at Saunders. "G…go…check on her," he said, gesturing at Mirage as he struggled to get up on his knees.

Saunders scrambled over to where Mirage was and helped her sit up. "Melissa, you're going to be okay."

"Aaron," she managed to rasp, "what about the AI?"

"Gone," Saunders rasped.

"Not yet," Adam said as he staggered back to his feet. The robotic arms in the lab suddenly returned to life, causing Mirage to involuntarily flinch for a moment out of fear until she saw all four arms stab into one of the walls and pull something out, ripping through several cables and causing the lights to momentarily flicker.

"Warning," the female system voice said, "Case Black mainframe connection severed."

The four arms dropped a three foot long box containing a glowing blue cylinder that had a chip suspended inside. On impact, the cylinder broke and the blue glow died, leaving the tiny chip on the ground. Then one of the arms suddenly lunged forward, its claw grabbing the tiny chip off the ground and bringing it to Adam who simply stared at the chip with a tired look on his face. "We both lose, BJ," he finally said as the claw crushed the chip, breaking it into tiny pieces. "I know it's a cliché, but better to die a hero than let a monster loose."

Saunders looked over at the boy who was now starting to flicker even more. "Adam," he said, "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Doc." Adam held up one of his hands and watched with morbid interest as his fingers glowed for a moment before "dusting away", the rest of his hand going right after them. "Funny," he said as his arm disintegrated. "I would have thought de-resolution would hurt a lot more." He took a couple more steps toward his programmer and…he supposed the woman was his mother in a weird genetic way…and smiled one last time before his entire body glowed blue-green, dissolving into digital dust that disappeared moments later.

For several moments, the lab was silent. Saunders helped Mirage to her feet and the two started to make their way towards the door when the life support machinery linked to the tank suddenly flashed to life.

"Warning," the cool female voice said. "Primary AI Download incomplete…fragmented data flow…error…error…error."

They both turned to see the containment tank light up and the boy inside suddenly open his eyes and start pounding on the glass.

"Oh god," Mirage gasped, "it's alive in there!" She dropped to her knees and grabbed the gun she had dropped on the floor, shakily pointing it at the liquid filled cylinder.

"Melissa, wait! That's not Pine!"

Mirage pulled the trigger, and kept pulling the trigger, emptying the magazine. Though the bullets didn't breach the tank, they did weaken its structural integrity, causing it to crack in several places before shattering and dumping its occupant on the floor.

Mirage was still pulling the trigger though the magazine was empty. She didn't stop until a hand gently reached down and pulled the gun out of her hand. "Melissa," Saunders said softly, "it's not Pine."

"H-how can you be sure?" she asked.

Before Saunders could respond, the naked boy suddenly got up on his hands and knees, coughing out the nutrient fluid that was filling his lungs. Then the boy got up on his knees and looked around, a dazed look in his eyes. "It's real," he rasped. The boy turned, momentarily looking at Saunders with a puzzled expression on his face before looking up and then pointing at a wall mounted camera. "I can see you."

Then the boy dropped back to the ground unconscious.

* * *

**_SST_**

**_THE PRESENT_**

"To be honest, David, I'm really not sure what happened. Whatever was left of the Adam AI managed to upload itself back into your body, but it was damaged...corrupted and fragmented." Saunders shook his head and chuckled bitterly. "But that core algorithm was intact enough to follow its base parameters and began to repair and try to recompile itself. It just wasn't Adam...it wasn't anything actually...it was just trying to repair itself." He appeared lost in thought for a moment before looking back at David. "What's remarkable is what it...er...you became." He grinned sheepishly. "I'm sorry, it's just hard to believe that...how can I put this nicely?"

"How a damaged AI can rebuild itself from scratch?"

"Well, I was trying to avoid being that rude about it-"

David cut the man off by raising his hand. "Doc, let's just get to the point; you're just going to drive yourself nuts trying to figure it out so I'll save you the trouble. My memories of everything prior to being placed with a family and those first few months are still a little hazy. I can't even begin to explain to you what it was like...but the being you're talking to now...David Flynn...may have been an algorithm or identity to help me interact with people. But it's what I am now and I can assure you that I am very real, not a simulation." David tried to keep his tone friendly, but even he was surprised at the slight edge in his own voice. Then he softened his tone as he had one of the security monitors display footage of Violet showing Saunders' daughter around. "Just like that young woman out there is real...she's your daughter, that will never change."

"That sounds human," Saunders said, still mentally trying to come to odds that he was talking to real being and not an AI from his lab.

"It is." David grinned at the older man and arched an eyebrow. "And now that we got the emotional baggage out of the way, let's return to our business deal. Then, maybe, after business is concluded...Uncle Aaron...you, me, and my cousin can go out to dinner and work out any other dysfunctional issues."

"Then it's going to be a very long dinner," Saunders replied, causing both men to chuckle at that comment.


	19. And the world still turns and burns VI

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (though they're doing nothing with it). Don't own The Incredibles, that's Brad Bird and Pixar's property (and I'm so glad he or any of the Pixar crew do not read the crap I write because they probably would have burned me at the stake by now).

Author's Notes: Okay, final installment of the "Turns and Burns" arc. The players are in place, and shit is about to hit the fan…again. And, for those of you who thought I had forgotten about a certain dangling plotline I introduced waaaay back in the "Awkward Times"…guess what…it wasn't forgotten (at least not by me).

And as usual, I want to thank Shannon K, Nullchronicler, Zarthrax and the Plothook crew, Walker of the Wheel, RubyPaladin, and everyone one else who has stuck with me…including that one guy (or girl) way over in the Russian Federation who keeps hitting my story every time I update. I just want to say thank you.

* * *

"_October 31, 2006...remember it…for it will be the day everything changes."_

-SST Omega Console System Advertisement

"_After the teaser at an electronics expo last week, SST will formally unveil their Omega Console System that they have been quietly developing with Nintendo and Sega Software. Lawyers for Viasoft, Sony, Novation Games, and even Apple are preparing for the possibility of potential lawsuits against the young tech firm which only recently appeared on scene within the last few moths."_

-N!Business, N!Channel

"_Okay, so this little prick suddenly announces a 'new' game system which, if reports from that convention are accurate, might be an impressive bit of technology which he probably stole from somebody else. Pretty much explains why all the REAL tech companies are lining up to bury him and I'll be more than willing to hand them the shovel to do it."_

-Brandi Miller, "The Brandi Miller Show", Air America

"_It's funny how Brandi Miller is constantly trying to cheer on my demise and jumping on any bandwagon where someone is targeting me. Now she's accusing me of stealing technology from companies like Viasoft and Apple. She really should read up on her history. After all, Bill Gates STOLE what would eventually become Windows from Steve Jobs who, oddly enough, originally ripped off the graphic user interface from Xerox who had no clue that they were sitting on a potential gold mine. However, that being said, I didn't steal any technology from anyone and I am more than prepared to face my accusers down. As for Miss Miller, if she keeps coming after me, I will take it personally and she, and the people she ultimately answers to, will not like it when I retaliate."_

-David Flynn in an interview with CTV's Ted Richards

"_Y'know, while everyone is looking forward to the 'unveiling' of Flynn's little game system I'm looking forward to that inevitable showdown between David Flynn and Brandi Miller. That crazy bitch has been riding his ass like a prison inmate jumping a piece of fresh meat since he first appeared on the scene. So far, Flynn's mostly ignored her, only throwing occasional shots back at her and people like Chris Matthews, but I can't help asking one question: Do you really want to get on this guy's bad side? No offense, but we're talking about a young nova who is mega-intelligent, is capable of creating very impressive pieces of technology, knows how to market said technology, obviously knows how to play the media, and…oh yeah…also runs a company where the entire payroll is almost ALL novas. I think Matthews and the MSNBC crew are smart enough to keep their distance and only throw the occasional stone at Flynn, but Ms. Miller is throwing fucking Molotov cocktails at the kid. It's only a matter of time before Flynn decides he's had enough of this shit and starts throwing high-explosive grenades back at her."_

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

* * *

**_Downtown Metroville_**

**_30 October 2006_**

Phillipa Lavielle actually liked California. It was one of the few places she felt truly defined what humanity was all about. On the surface, most of the denizens of Southern California tried to make themselves look like beautiful people while trying to hide what pathetic and pitiful creatures they truly were behind those carefully high-priced, sculpted facades they paid various plastic surgeons to construct for them. She got a kick out of watching the residents, both celebrity and local, trying to act so self-important and make themselves look like there were somebody.

But Phillipa knew what they were; sheep. Sheep that were clueless and needing guidance pretty much summed up what she thought of the rest of the world. They were un-evolved and petty beings that pretty much deserved whatever engineered near-distinction event Aeon could come up with. However…it was still fun to watch the parade of multi-colored sheep trying to act out.

At the moment, she and Chiraben were standing on the roof of a high-rise building, each looking through a set of binoculars at the SST building off in the distance. From the flurry of activity outside the building, it appeared that David Flynn was planning for the launch of his company's game console to be one hell of an event.

_And I'm sure it will be, Mr. Flynn. But not like you intended._

"Okay, tell me again," Chiraben said as he stood next to her, frowning, "why did you have Zone 'port us here? Can't we just use satellite imaging and tracking to do this from home?"

"We could," Phillipa replied, "but do you really want to risk alerting someone who is mentally linked to the 'net constantly?"

Chiraben glanced at her, a look of disbelief. "Seriously?" he asked. Then he let out a low whistle when Phillipa nodded her head in confirmation. "Damn, that powerful?"

"Yes, that powerful. We use any sort of high-tech surveillance gear this close to his home, he would detect it almost immediately and be jacking into whatever satellites are overhead, the security cameras nearest to our location, or both."

"He can do that?"

"Oh yes." Phillipa smiled and gestured to the quiet albino man in a three piece suit who had teleported them there and now silently stood by waiting for an order. "That's why Zone's here, to bring us here through non-technological means and to shield our physical presence as well."

"So why are we here, exactly?"

"A few months ago," Phillipa said, looking at a service door to the building, "back when I was merely a 'security specialist' before you arranged my 'promotion', one of our facilities where we train our security personnel was hit…a couple agents were injured, but no fatalities. The people behind the attack caused a lot of property damage, but, after we pieced things together, we realized that some weapons were missing."

"What kind of weapons."

"Rifles and specialized ammunition. Yes, while some equipment was destroyed in the attack, we know they were taken because their tracking chips were disabled, not destroyed. We were able to briefly reactivate them to track their position and stumbled across," Phillipa paused to give Chiraben a smug grin, "an opportunity."

Before Chiraben could ask what she meant, the service door opened and young man with brown hair stepped out onto the roof with a case in hand. Instinctively, Chiraben's fingers morphed into claws and he was about to attack the intruder when he realized that, thanks to Zone and Phillipa's mental abilities, the man couldn't see or hear them. This was confirmed when the man walked right by them, proceeded to the edge of the roof, knelt down, opened the case, and proceeded to assemble the rifle.

"Meet Brian Paladino," Phillipa said in response to Chiraben's unspoken question. "He and his sister have been tracking David Flynn for the last few months, shadowing him and plotting his assassination. I do believe the objective was to kill David Flynn and make it look like Utopia was behind it. A simple, but very elegant and well executed, plan actually."

Chiraben nodded in agreement. "Yeah," he said, "good thing we're going to stop him, though I don't see why we should. Icing Flynn would save us the trouble, and we can just kill this guy and remove the evidence meant to implicate us."

Phillipa shook her head, her grin becoming more smug. "Oh, but we don't want to stop him," she said. "I want him to try to kill David Flynn, and I want Utopia to be implicated."

"Why?" Chiraben was confused for a moment, until he thought it through and realized what Phillipa was planning. "Thetis and Proteus…you want Flynn to focus on them. It's no secret he hates Utopia. And, if the rumors are true about him knowing about Proteus…"

"They are."

Chiraben whistled softly again. "Then that means he might go to war with them. Wait…that means he has to survive the attempt." He glanced over at Paladino who was now siting the rifle. "Um, that's one of our UT-460s," he said. "They can easily pick a man from a mile out and, from the way this kid is handling it, he obviously knows how to use it."

"He does."

"And, how exactly, are we going to make sure survives being shot?"

Phillipa chuckled, shaking her head again. "Ah, Chiraben, what makes you think he's the one who's going to be shot?" She gave him another smile, but this one was colder and had a healthy dose of venom in it. "When Brian here tries to kill Flynn tomorrow night, he's going to learn a painful lesson in perception." She then looked down and glanced at her watch. "Well, that's enough recon work for the day. Zone, take us to that Italian place near City Hall, if you don't mind? I feel like celebrating."

With a nod from the albino man, the air rippled around the three of them before they suddenly vanished.

Brian Paladino paused and turned to look around. For a moment, he felt that someone was behind him but a quick check confirmed he was the only one on this roof. He could see no heat signatures with his enhanced vision so he was confident that there were no invisible lurkers.

_Damn…the anticipation is making me paranoid, _he thought.

He went back to adjusting the rifle-site and then raised it and aimed at the middle of the stage that was being set up in the SST parking lot. His finger pulled the trigger and the rifle clicked as he imagined David Flynn's head snapping back as the bullet tore through his forehead, his body staggering backwards before dropping to the ground in a lifeless heap and a small blood-pool forming on the ground.

"Bang," Brian smirked, "you're dead."

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Neon Café**_

_Oh god_, Violet thought to herself as she watched the Zoe Kilmarten, Shiro Murakami, and Bridgette Saunders gathered around a table in the Neon Café, each of them drinking a mocha (or, in the case of Zoe, a few mochas) and talking in techno-babble that was way over her head. _What have I done? _

It started out harmlessly enough, Violet showing Bridgette around the company. Already, Violet had decided she didn't like the other woman much, mostly due to her arrogant attitude and abrupt way in which she responded to others whenever Violet introduced Bridgette to various SST employees. In a way, Violet had to admit to herself, her current predicament was her own fault. Out of twisted amusement, and thinking Bridgette would be put her place, Violet decided to introduce their guest to Zoe.

Unfortunately, for Violet, it didn't go the way she had planned. At first, Bridgette Saunders was her arrogant and semi-hostile self when she and Zoe met and Violet almost wondered if a fight was going to break out. Then Zoe's eyes suddenly lit up, which was the first warning.

"Bridgette Saunders?" Zoe's eyes widened and her voice took on an excited pitch that she only used when David created a technical gadget or Starbucks announced a new drink. "THE Bridgette Saunders!"

Bridgette, for her part, seemed taken aback at that response and the fact the pink haired speedster was shaking her hand. "Um, yes, that would be me." Violet wasn't sure, but she thought she sensed a slight crack in the other woman's arrogant manner.

"I studied some of your work last year, the stuff about adaptive algorithms and 'evolving matrices'…awesome stuff. I actually applied some of your ideas for my programming encryption."

"You did?" There was no mistake now; Bridgette's arrogant attitude was gone, replaced by genuine surprise.

"Goth girl," Zoe said, addressing Violet. "Why didn't you say she was coming?" Normally, that nickname was said derisively, but Zoe's usual hostility was gone or at least reeled back a little bit. Sure, there was still a little sting to it, but not as much. In fact, it almost sounded polite…almost.

"Her father and David are trying to close that nanotech deal," Violet replied.

"Cool!" Zoe then grabbed Bridgette by the arm. "C'mon, Bridgette, you can hang out with the really smart people," she said. "Shiro," she then shrieked, "guess who's here!"

Violet let the snide comment from Zoe slide. It was doubtful that she and the pink haired speedster would ever get along, but Violet could take whatever form of ceasefire she could get. At the very least, she no longer had to deal with the arrogant Bridgette Saunders and that was good in her book.

Unfortunately, twenty minutes later, she almost regretted introducing Zoe and Bridgette. The two women, along with the reptilian Shiro Murakami were now drinking mochas in the Neon Café and speaking in rapid techno-babble that had even other employees looking on in amusement or confusion.

Violet merely kept her distance and watched, sitting at another table and sipping a bottle of water. Her solitude was interrupted by Null who seemed to appear out of nowhere and sat down at her table.

"Congratulations," Null snickered, giving a momentary glance at the trio sitting at the other table, "you have unleashed something dire upon the rest of the world."

"Oh, shut up," Violet snapped. "I thought you were dealing with the Bio-Sphere 2 stuff."

"Still am," Null replied, "but we have a situation outside that the bossman might want to look into."

"If you're talking about all the various news crews and stuff, he knows about it." She shook her head and took another sip of her water. "To be honest, I don't like the idea of David doing this public party."

"Okay, Violet, seriously, you really need to let my crew be the paranoid ones. And no, I'm not talking about the news crews in general." Null then dropped the smile, his expression becoming more serious. "I just thought you should know that N!Channel has a crew sitting at the front gate and their special reporter is trying to cause grief."

"Who's this 'special reporter'?"

"Brandi Miller." Null didn't hide the hostility in his voice. "Apparently, Utopia pulled some strings with N!Channel and Ms. Miller is their envoy covering this event."

"Shit," Violet said, "as if things couldn't get any worse."

"Trust me, it could get worse." Both Violet and Null looked up to see David and Doctor Saunders standing there. There was the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of David's mouth that pretty much said it all. "In fact," he added, "it's going to get worse for someone, alright. Just not us."

Violet tried to ignore the evil grin on her employer's face. "I take it you were able to reach a deal?"

Both David and Doctor Saunders glanced at each other for a moment before nodding in silent agreement. "It's not set in stone," David replied, "but we only have a few details to work out." He then extended his hand to the older man. "Doc, I'll be seeing you and Bridgette later tonight, then?"

"Dimitiri's at nine," Saunders replied. "Speaking of which, where is my daughter?"

Both Null and Violet pointed at the table where Shiro, Bridgette Saunders, and Zoe were huddled over their table, scrawling on a large sheet of paper and speaking rapidly in techno babble.

David groaned and shook his head. "Oh no," he said, "you didn't."

This time, it was Violet wearing an evil grin. "Oh yes, I did."

"If you'll excuse me," Saunders said, barely stifling his laughter, "I'll be trying to extract my daughter."

"Good luck with that," David said, smiling for a moment, but the smile was gone when he turned to reface Null and Violet. "You two, come with me."

"What's up?" Violet asked, noticing the serious look on David's face. "The situation at the main gate. It looks like Ms. Miller is trying to call me out."

"David," the warning in Violet's voice was very clear. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Violet," David mockingly gasped, holding a hand over his heart, "I would never do anything stupid."

"You're not going to kill her or have something explode on her, are you?"

"No…give me some credit. You have my word that I will not do anything to her physically and she will be alive and mostly well when we're done."

"Okay, why does that not assure me?" Violet asked.

"Wasn't meant to," Null replied before looking back at David. "So what's the plan, bossman?"

David shrugged and his usual grin returned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes which were cold and calculating. "Well, Brandi Miller is here to meet some little mega-genius punk…I think I shall give her what she wants."

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Main Gate**_

Martin Epstein (or, as his friends and co-workers called him, Marty) loved his job as a cameraman and tech for N!Channel. Granted, it was an iron-clad contract and not like the union contracted job he used to have at other networks, but the benefits were good, the pay was great, and he enjoyed the fact that he was usually one of the first few people on the scene when something nova related happened in the entertainment industry. In fact, he ended up seeing and knowing things before many major news networks knew and he took great pride in it. He also got a reputation of being one of the best cameramen in the business and it was a reputation he worked hard to keep.

Unfortunately, that reputation is what landed him in his current predicament and, for the first time in his career with N!Channel, he was seriously thinking about quitting. As he sat behind the steering wheel of the N!Channel news van, he managed to keep an impassive face as his new boss was trying to incite a confrontation with the security guard manning the gate to the SST complex. He was actually hoping the security guard would kick in whatever nova ability he had and incinerate his boss right there, but Martin knew that wasn't likely to happen.

Brandi Miller, activist, radio-show personality, and now N!Channel special reporter for N!Channel's "N!sight" program was an egotistical and self-righteous bitch…and, as far as Marty was concerned, those were just her good points. When N!Channel originally signed her on, Marty had no doubt that they hired her because of her popularity among various demographics and that it would mean explosive ratings. One of the deals in her contract…she only wanted the best, which meant a promotion and pay-raise for Marty.

_Promotion and pay-raise, my ass! I would trade those two back in a fucking minute if things went back to the way they were._

Ever since he started working for her a week ago, Marty realized that Brandi Miller only cared about two things: Brandi Miller and her image. From the stories he heard from other colleagues in his line of work, Marty had come to the conclusion that Chris Matthews, Bill O'Reilly, Ed Schultz, and Glenn Beck combined could not come to the level of bitchiness and assholery Brandi Miller was at.

_Hell, one week and I'm tempted to resign and find some local station in some backwoods hick town just to get away from this bitch._

Aside from the two or three sycophantic producers in their department, Marty knew that the other half-dozen members of the N!Sight team felt the same way. Within a week, Miller fired three people, replaced them, fired one of those replacements, and made it very clear that she was the star of N!Sight and that she had say in what direction the show was headed. N!Sight, though very pro-Utopia in its bias was actually a semi-respectable news show. Unfortunately, the producers felt it was attracting the wrong demographic; they wanted the 18-34 "younger generation", not the 49-80 "geezers" who made up the "60 Minutes demographic".

When they started the show's new format last week, the ratings were up, but Marty didn't like the direction the show was going. Ever since Miller came on board, she made it clear that she had one objective right off the bat: to take down David Flynn. Marty wasn't sure why the bitch was obsessed with the young nova genius, but the producers thought it was great idea and agreed that it would make for an interesting series of special focus stories that would establish "N!Sight" as a hard-hitting news show.

Marty wasn't sure that was a good idea. Granted, Miller and the producers may have seen David Flynn as some sort of demonic creature (and most of N!Channel's news programming went out of their way to push that image), but Marty didn't think the kid was anything like Utopia wanted him to be portrayed. In fact, he actually admired Flynn's natural ability to stand up and fight back…a quality that seemed to be disappearing fast in this "new golden age". However, Marty made damn sure that he didn't voice his views publicly, because he knew it would get his ass fired and probably blacklisted.

But now, as they sat parked at the front gate of the SST facility, Marty was seriously thinking that possible blacklisting might be worth it. When Flynn announced he was going to throw a big "Open House" party to celebrate the release of a product, Brandi Miller was already barking orders to have the production crew on the next flight to Metroville.

And that was how Marty and a couple other helpless techs ended up with "Her Highness, First Lady of Bitchery" Brandi Miller. When they arrived, there were other network crews setting up across the street, but Miller wouldn't have it. She had an objective and ordered Marty to drive to the front gate. She wanted to do an "ambush interview" with Flynn, but the SST people wouldn't have it. She then tried to walk across the front lawn and march up to the building, only to have a large rocklike creature, wearing goggles and a what appeared to be a lab-coat, pick her up and drop her next to the vehicle. Of course, Miller was hoping for a confrontation and had Marty try to record the whole think on camera.

Except, when Marty tried to view the footage, all he got was distorted images that indicated the feed had somehow been corrupted or blocked. Needless to say, that pissed Her Bitchiness even more.

"Listen up, you glow-in-the-dark Neanderthal," Brandi was snarling at the large black man who, to Marty, looked like he was trying his best not to yawn, "you tell your boss that we're not leaving until we get the truth."

"The truth, huh?" The guard shook his head and laughed at her. "Ms. Miller, I was under the impression you invented the truth if you couldn't find it."

"Oh, cute comeback," Brandi snapped, "how many braincells died while you tried to come up with it?"

Marty glanced over his shoulder for a moment and noticed the other network crews across the street suddenly become active. It was odd because they weren't coming across the street, but several of the network camera crews were now focused on the N!Channel van. Suddenly, Marty got a sick feeling that something ugly was going to happen and he was going to be in the middle of it. Then he heard some of the comments from the various crews and saw some of them pointing.

"It's him!"

"I can't believe it, the bitch actually made him come out."

"Oh hell yeah, this is going to be good."

Marty turned to see what they were pointing at and the sick feeling immediately gave way to dread and more than a healthy dose of fear as he saw David Flynn, the CEO and owner of SST, approach the gate flanked by a Native American Man in janitorial coveralls and young woman with long dark hair that Marty recognized as Flynn's Vice-President, Violet Parr. However, Marty was focused on Flynn's face. The kid smiled and waved at the other news crews across the street, even took time to wave at some of the bystanders and people hanging out on the sidewalk outside the gate, but Marty could feel the sense of dread build up even more as Flynn turned his attention to the N!Sight crew and the kids grin started to look like it belonged to a shark moving in for the kill.

_I know I like being at ground zero when a story breaks, but I don't want to BE the story._

Brandi Miller, oblivious to Marty's wariness, chuckled and playfully punched his arm. "Told you the little shit would come out," she snickered, "all we had to do was bait him."

_Yeah, let's all wear bloody meat and jump into a shark tank without protection._

However, Marty said nothing and just brought his camera up which, for some reason, suddenly started working again. But what caught his attention, was the tiny flashing LED message at the base of the camera view screen indicating that this was an active feed and they were streaming live which meant the production crew couldn't edit the footage before putting it out.. He tried to kill the connection, but the damn thing remained active.

"Mr. Flynn," Brandi sneered, "so good of you to join us."

David Flynn, to his credit, seemed to ignore the bait and merely nodded. "Ms. Miller," he said, his tone calm and even. "There are easier ways to get an interview, storming my front door is not one of them."

"It got you out here, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did." The smile faded a little from the young man's face, but the cold and calculating gleam in his eyes didn't. "However, I'm not doing an interview and I am here to personally inform you that I will give you ten seconds to get off my property and start heading back across the street."

"Or what?" Miller asked, smirking at Flynn and apparently not intimidated by the implied threat. Unfortunately, Marty didn't feel the same confidence his boss did.

Flynn sighed and his shoulders sagged in resignation. "Ten seconds, Ms. Miller, or your life will become very interesting." He then brought up his left arm and looked down at his wristwatch. "Starting now…Ten…Nine."

"Oh please, what can you do to me in ten seconds?" Brandi then turned to look at Marty and the camera, laughing as she pointed over her shoulder at Flynn. "Can you believe this punk?"

"Eight," Flynn continued counting, "and it doesn't matter what you believe…seven…but I'm not lying either….six."

Marty tried not to panic, but all his attempts at trying to kill the live feed were failing.

"Um, Boss, we're going out on live feed," he said.

"Five…of course you are," Flynn said, giving Marty a wink, "four…"

"So what," Brandi snapped, "the little shit is bluffing."

"Three…are you sure about that?" The predatory grin returned and Marty was beginning to wonder if he was going to get caught in the fallout of whatever Flynn had planned. "Two…"

"Give it up, you little bastard," Brandi snarled, motioning at Marty. "Hey, Marty, get a close up of this."

"One…you were warned." Flynn shook his head again, but the smirk didn't leave his face. "Zero..."

The next few seconds were dead silent and nobody said anything. It wasn't broken until Brandi started laughing again. "So, what was supposed to happen? Was I supposed to suddenly go up in flames or something?"

Before Flynn could answer, Marty's cell-phone went off, and then the sound of multiple cell-phone ringers going off across the street began to ripple through the gathered groups of media outlets. Flynn was still smiling, but turned to look directly in Marty's direction, obviously knowing this feed was going out live. "Boom…and Marty, you might want to answer the phone."

Marty, reached down with his left hand to grab his cell-phone and bring it up to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Marty," it was Joe Priesley, one of the executive producers at N!Channel, "pull Miller back and get out of there."

Now Marty knew his fear was justified. One of the main executive producers from N!Channel was contacting him directly instead of calling Miller. Though Marty had no idea why, he could tell that it, whatever it was, had hit the fan and people were getting caught in the shit storm that followed. "Understood," he said before closing the phone.

"Brandi, that was Joe at N!Channel, we need to get out of here now." He could sense movement out of the corner of his eye and he glanced back to see some of the news crews start to approach their location. "And I think that's a good idea."

Miller was still smiling, pausing only for a moment to look at the approaching media crews with and give them a look of mild contempt before turning back to face Flynn. "Going to stage another surprise 'press conference' performance again, Mr. Flynn?"

"No, Ms. Miller," Flynn replied, his smile now replaced by a cold and impassive expression. "This is where I watch you get ripped apart." Then he stepped forward and spoke softly, but still loud enough for Marty's camera to pick it up. "And they're very interested in what you like to do during your 'pleasure' trips to Thailand, especially with some damning evidence that just got released worldwide."

Brandi's face suddenly paled and her mouth dropped open in shock. "N-no," she managed to say as Flynn stepped away from her, "that's not possible."

Flynn's cold smile returned. "Oh, it's very possible," he said, "your masters suck when it comes to covering your indiscretions and personal vices; but that's okay, after all, they're very good at cutting their losses and spinning things in their favor. It just so happens that you are no longer a useful tool to them now that your little secret is going to make the Six O'clock news and will probably become the next hot controversy that will be polluting the airwaves for about the next week. Long story short…your pathetic career is over. So take your pedophilic ass off my property before I have you tossed out by force."

"You little fucker!" Brandi suddenly lunged forward, throwing a fist at that hit Flynn, who oddly enough, simply stood their and took the shot to the side of the face. His head snapped slightly to the side and he did stumble a couple steps, but he merely smiled as he rubbed his jaw and looked back at her.

"And that," the young man chuckled, "I do believe is assault." He glanced at his two companions. "That was assault, wasn't it?"

"Yes," the young woman accompanying Flynn replied while the Native American man merely nodded and grinned. "That does count as assault, and it was all caught on camera." Then she stopped to look at the crowd of people beginning to gather around them. "Make that 'cameras', as in plural."

"Then my work here is done," Flynn said as he turned to leave, but he paused for a moment and looked back over his shoulder at Brandi. "And, to be fair, Ms. Miller, I did warn you." Then he and his two companions started to walk back to the main building while large black man manning the gate merely smiled and stood there as he watched Brandi Miller get ambushed by several reporters all at once.

Marty, luckily, had managed to pull away and get back in the N!Channel van. He contemplated waiting for Miller, but his cell-phone went off again. "Epstein."

It was Joe Priesley again. "Marty, you gotta' get out of there, now!"

"What about Brandi?"

"The hell with Miller, she just became a toxic commodity. Now get the fuck out of there, meet up with the rest of the N!Sight crew on the other side of town and get out."

Marty didn't have to be told twice. He started the van up, shifted it into gear, and floored the gas, causing some people to jump out of the way as he pulled out and drove off. He knew that would probably get caught on camera, but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, his career was going to take a hit just by being affiliated with Miller.

_On the other hand_, he thought as he drove off ignoring Brandi's cries for him to wait for her, _working at some backwoods hick town TV station sounds a lot safer._


	20. Cue the Downbeat

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Brad Bird does. Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still owns it (and won't do anything with it...sadly). Don't own E-Talk: On Scene, that's a CTV property. Although, I did create Mark Johal for E-Talk.

Author's Notes:

Okay, not much to report on this. Nothing going on in this chapter except this is probably the last one where things are relatively calm. All the pieces are in place, the drama is about to begin. Think of this chapter as final prep-check before take-off.

As usual, thanks to the usual suspects for sticking around, NullC, the Plothook crew, Walker, Shannon (the whip wielding psycho mom), GW2005, SWBravo, a whole bunch of people I can't recall at the moment, and that one person from the Russian Federation who keeps checking this fic out.

* * *

"_In a stunning revelation, radio talk-show host, N!Channel reporter, and pro-Utopia activist Brandi Miller was implicated in having links to a child-prostitution ring that had been under investigation by various international law enforcement agencies for the last few months. While key people who were running the operation and many of their clients had been brought to justice in the course of the investigation, it was clear that there were others who had not been identified and could not be tracked. It wasn't until evidence dumped anonymously on the net in the form of cell-phone records, text messages, and decrypted e-mails, that this case was broken wide open and brought up more questions than answers."_

"_Among the information regarding Ms. Miller's activities, even more damning evidence was provided implicating various celebrities, politicians, and even a few novas, all of whom were very Pro-Utopia in their views. But what concerns many law-enforcement members in the International Community is the paper trail that people connected to Project Utopia were helping cover up the activities of their high-profile advocates in the form of pay-offs, political favors, or intimidation."_

-CTV News

"_The alleged evidence against Ms. Miller and others was dumped anonymously on the net, and some legal experts say that is grounds to get these charges dismissed. Some are calling for a more thorough investigation to determine who released the information, but even the most savvy computer programmers on Utopia's payroll have not been able to turn up any clues. However, they are certain that either Syndrome Software & Technologies President David Flynn or members of the Teragen might have been behind it."_

-N!Channel News.

"_N!Sight…the former hard-hitting news show for N!Channel has been removed from that network's line-up to be re-tooled once again. The irony is that N!Channel executives had just changed the show to a new format that they believed would be a success. However, due to the activities of the show's lead reporter, N!Channel thought it would be best to pull the series off the air and re-tool the show once again. According to the show's new executive producer, Martin Epstein, he intends to have the show go back to its more investigative roots and not rely on what he had described as 'ambush journalism on crack'. Only time will tell if this once great show will be able to return to its former glory."_

-Entertainment Tonight

"_Okay, we all saw what happened yesterday, folks. And I told ya, didn't I? Little Ms. Miller was throwing Molotov cocktails at David Flynn and the kid just calmly smiled, pulled out a couple grenades, tossed them in her direction, and then opened up with a couple artillery salvos for good measure, destroying Brandi Miller's career. But not only that, it would appear the grenades took out some pro-Utopia advocates as well because it looks like they were also involved. And, worse yet, people…it looks like somebody in the Utopia bureaucracy was covering it up!"_

"_Of course, the official story is that no one knows who was truly behind all that evidence being dumped on the net to almost every major news outlet all at once. However, experts and 'analysts' working for Utopia seem to have 'narrowed' it down to either David Flynn or someone in the Teragen. Basically, they're trying to place blame on the two groups they figure are most likely pull something like this and have the capability to do it. But let's be honest here, folks. The Teragen? C'mon! I'm sure they're more than capable and might have a nova or two in their ranks who can pull it off, but it's obvious who was behind it and that Utopia threw the Teragen out there as suspects because they have no real proof against Flynn."_

"_But let's not be mistaken. What happened yesterday was Flynn firing back at Miller and also blowing a few holes in the boat she was sailing on. It was, for all intents and purposes, a warning shot across Utopia's bow and basically telling them he was going to fuck them up if they kept targeting him. Because it wasn't just Miller that got taken down on this scandal; some members of congress, a few state representatives, a couple diplomats, and even some Utopia-employed novas were implicated. Throw in the paper trail of a cover-up leading to Utopia's Public Relations Division on top of that and you have some damning evidence. While there are no digital or cyber 'fingerprints', it is obvious Flynn had something to do with the information getting out. It was a warning, pure and simple, to Project Utopia: 'Fuck with me at your own risk'."_

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show", XM Radio.

"_Hello and welcome to a special of edition of 'E-TALK: On Scene'. I'm Mark Johal and I am at SST's main headquarters down here in Metroville, California, getting ready to cover the company's public unveiling of their game console system as well as making their official debut to the public. Though the festivities are hours away, we've been given exclusive access to the site. As you can see behind me, a few outdoor pavilions have been set up as well as the massive stage set up in the parking lot. Construction crews, both baseline and nova, have been working around the clock for the last few days to set this up. As you can see, people have been lining up across the street since, some have told me, about yesterday morning, and the line stretches down Empire Boulevard and turns the corner down Parkes Avenue. Local businesses, particularly cafes and restaurants, have experienced record sales in the last week and you can feel the energy in the atmosphere. However, before the party starts, we get a chance to talk to the guy, who has only recently burst on the scene, and has taken the tech world by storm. That's right, people, we get exclusive access with SST President and CEO, David Pine Flynn and you get to see here first at E-Talk: ON SCENE!"_

-Mark Johal, E-Talk: On Scene, CTV

* * *

**_Metroville, California_**

**_31 October 2006_**

**_0730_**

David never really considered himself an avid runner. Oh sure, he ran every day, but he never really kept track of the distance he ran or the time involved. All he cared was that he had a starting point, a destination point, and the return trip back; the fun part was the paths he took to get to where he wanted to go. Sometimes, the run would range anywhere from forty-five minutes to a couple hours, depending on his mood and what his schedule was like. Today, he decided to make it a short run, keeping mostly to the public parks and streets though he did cut through a section of warehouses at the city's port district.

With a slight mental nudge, his mind linked to various networks that were linked to security cameras around the city and to a couple overhead satellites that were currently overhead. For a nanosecond, he realized that some people would call his ability godlike and, if he wanted to, he could easily bring the world its knees; but that would really take up most of his free time and he couldn't enjoy life. On the other hand, using his ability to create a live streaming interactive 3D map that was immediately playing though his brain while he was on the ground and physically looking at the real world from the blinking position marker on map was pretty cool. After he cut down an alley, he turned on to one street and jumped over the hood of a parked car, then twisting to avoid an oncoming bicyclist, and allowed his momentum to carry him forward as he extended his arms out front to perform a handspring somersault off a bench on the sidewalk.

When he landed, he dropped to the ground and rolled with the impact, getting back up on his feet within a second and continuing his run, leaving some stunned witnesses behind. He finished up his run with a quick jaunt that took him across the top of a couple warehouses and took a fire escape that dropped him back on a public sidewalk. He slowed down to a light jog as he approached the one constant in every run, a tiny little café that was next to a public bus stop. A mental check with the city grid informed him that the 14E route bus that would take him right by the SST building was not due for another twenty minutes, enough time for him to enjoy a small breakfast.

He entered the café and paused for a moment to take in the smell. The smells of fresh baked bread, pastries, and brewing coffee teased his nose and he gave the young woman behind the counter a smile. "I'll take my usual, but give me an extra orange juice," he said.

"Blueberry bran muffin and two orange juices, David?" the woman asked. "Dehydrated yourself on your run?"

"Nah, Susan, I'm just picking up one for someone else," David replied, giving the woman a ten dollar bill.

"That's nice of you," Susan said as she took David's money and gave him change that he threw in the tip jar. "Just one question, though."

"Go ahead, shoot."

"You have a café in your own building. I'm not complaining about your business, but why come here?"

"Because every time Ashley puts up blueberry bran muffins, the pink eater of doom shows up and demolishes them all," David said, pretending to whine. Susan laughed at that and shook her head as she prepared David's order. A few minutes later, David was back outside, walking up the sidewalk towards the bus stop. He paused for a moment and re-linked to the satellite feed, smiling as he had the satellite switch to thermal imaging and zoom in on his location. His smile got bigger as he turned to face the heat signature standing a few feet away from him. "Well," he said, holding up the extra bottle of orange juice, "I'm surprised you managed to keep up with me."

The air in front of David seemed to shimmer for a moment before Violet rippled into existence in front of him, wearing a pair of sweats and a white Metro U t-shirt. She had her long hair tied back in a pony-tail and an annoyed look on her face as she took the bottle of orange juice. "How long had you known I was following you?" she asked, taking the offered bottle from him.

"Let's see," David said, pausing for a moment to take a bite out of his muffin, "I picked up your heat signature about five minutes in, but the tell tale sign was your smell."

"Excuse me?"

David held up his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm sorry, but it's true. You stayed close enough that whenever there was a breeze, that rose smell from that body lotion you use is a dead giveaway, especially when you start to break a sweat…not that I'm complaining, mind you…wait, that didn't sound right."

Violet glared at him, but there was twitch at the corner of her mouth as she fought the urge to laugh at David's sudden awkwardness. "No," she started to giggle, "it didn't sound right at all." Then her smile faded a little as she brought up a subject she was trying to avoid. "Look, about yesterday, we need to talk."

"What's there to talk about, Vi?" David asked. He finished off his muffin and tossed the paper bag it had come in into a nearby trash bin. "I dealt with a problem."

"David, you destroyed her," Violet said evenly as she and David made their way to the bus stop. "Yes, Brandi Miller was a bitch, but don't you think it was a little overkill to do what you did?"

David stopped and looked at her for a moment, not saying anything. Having spent the last couple months with him, Violet learned to read David's expressions and she realized that there were two David Flynns; the confident and sometimes cocky little mega-genius punk that the general public saw and then there was the haunted young man she occasionally saw when he let his guard down.

For a moment, the cocky and confident façade slipped and David sighed in resignation, nodding his head. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, "I suppose I could have done it quietly, but she was starting to become more than just an annoying bitch with a talk show." There was no glee or arrogance as he spoke; he was just simply stating the facts. "I've known for quite awhile she was paid by Utopia to harass and hound me, and she was making it more than personal. I put a stop to it before it got out of hand, that's all."

"But were you sending a message to Miller or to Utopia as a whole?"

David grinned at her and nodded in approval. "You see, now you're learning," he said. "Utopia was paying her to go after me and I would have been more than willing to let them play their game. Yeah, I still would have taken her and the others down, but it wouldn't have been in such a public way." Then his expression darkened a little, malicious gleam in his eyes as he continued. "However, they were starting to cross the line. Going after me is one thing but when their pet pit bull started kicking around ideas of doing a complete expose' on my 'barbarian horde of cyber-cutthroats', her wording not mine, I had to do something. Targeting me is okay, but my friends and co-workers are off limits." Then the smug grin returned. "Besides," he added, "I'm supposed to be this 'cold and ruthless heir' to my father's legacy, right? At least I think that's how it was termed at one point in one article."

"Well, no offense, David, but you can be an asshole sometimes," Violet said. "But I you have a point, especially after everything you've shown me." Then she gave David a mischievous grin of her own. "And I do believe your 80s hair is beginning to form."

"What!" David frantically ran his hands through his hair for a few seconds and then glared at Violet. "That's not funny, Vi."

"And I raaaaaan," Violet sang, "I ran so far awaaaaaaay."

"So not cool," David grumbled as they reached the bus stop, "not cool at all."

As they got off the bus a half hour later, Violet noted that over a dozen international media outlets, along with over a dozen local stations, had set up camp across the street from the SST building, lining and beginning to circle around the block. However, she noticed that almost none of them dared to send anyone across the street; a thought that caused her to giggle.

"What?" David asked, looking over at her.

"It's nothing," Violet replied, "it's just funny how the media is trying to stay away from you and yet they want to be right at ground zero."

"Well, when noon hits, they know they'll be allowed onto the grounds." David smiled at her. "Relax, Vi, the piranha will feast upon us at some point today."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring."

"Wasn't supposed to be," David said, waving at some of the news crews. He then followed Violet up to the main gate where Null and Jake were waiting for them. "Gentlemen, how goes it?"

"The CTV crew dropped by while you were out, we let them in and they're waiting in the main building." Jake then smiled. "N!Channel then sent a crew and they demanded they be let in, I told them to go fuck themselves."

"Well, that wasn't nice," David said, "eloquent, but not nice. You realize they'll probably broadcast that, right?"

Null held up his cell-phone and opened a window on the device's screen. "Already is," he said as he showed everyone the footage that was being broadcasted on N!Channel. Then he frowned as he looked at the image. "Damn, Jake, I think you need to hit the gym. The camera's putting an extra fifty pounds on your girlish figure."

"And who's the guy who orders a dozen of Ashley's sweet rolls every morning and manages to eat eleven of them before the box makes it out here?"

"Hey, if I don't eat them, you can bet Zoe will!"

"Okay," the large black man admitted, "you have a point." Then he looked back at David. "Speaking of the pink haired one, the delivery you were expecting is parked out by the loading bay."

"Really?" David then looked around. "She's not here yet, is she?"

"Let's see," Null said, closing the window on his phone and pulling up a new one. "She'll probably be wrapping up her GED testing pretty soon and then start hitting the coffee shops. I figure we got about another forty-five minutes."

"Wait," Violet said, trying to figure out what she missed, "delivery? What kind of delivery?"

"Zoe's birthday present," David replied, grinning sheepishly, "it took me awhile to find one that fit her style."

"Should have gone with a neon pink Mini Cooper," Null said.

"Hold on, you got Zoe a car for her birthday?" Violet shook her head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Oh, let's see, because she's been begging for one since she got her license and her parents kept telling her 'no'."

"Okay, what part of 'super-speedster' do you not get?"

"Hey, your brother has a classic Chevy Camaro," David fired back at Violet. "Flashy, fast, noisy, and pretty much an ego-machine."

"Okay, okay, I get the point. Zoe wants a car and you hate my brother."

"Hate's a pretty strong word, Vi. He's pretty much under my radar and I think he realizes he's better off staying there." Though the tone was light, David's warning was clear. "And after what happened to Ms. Miller last night, I think he'll realize how low in the minors he really is when it comes to my enemies."

"Wow, now who has the big ego?"

David chuckled at that. "That's why I have you around, Violet, to shove a pin in my head when it starts to get too big."

"Your head or your hair?" Violet giggled.

"Okay…that was low…very low," David half-whined.

"And I raaaaaaan," Violet began singing again.

"Okay, not funny. Null, Jake, help me out here."

"I ran so far awaaaaaaaay," Null and Jake sang, backing up Violet.

"I just raaaaaaaaaan, I couldn't get awaaaaaaaaaaay…."

"Thanks a lot," David muttered, as he walked up to the main building, leaving the terribly singing trio behind him. He entered the main lobby and found the CTV crew setting up in the lounge area. "Greetings," he said to the crew before frowning as he realized the crew he wanted wasn't there. "Um…don't take this the wrong way, but where's Ted Richards?"

An olive skinned man with black hair in his mid-twenties stepped forward and offered his hand. "Sorry," he said, "last minute change, I'm Mark Johal from the Vancouver bureau. Ted, Greg, and Maria are working on a W5 special report and need to get it ready for tomorrow so it can be aired a day after your product release."

As he shook the man's hand, David mentally reached out, linking to the SST mainframe and did a quick ID check on the man and the rest of the CTV crew standing in front of him. A second later, their identities were confirmed and David smiled. "A W5 special report," he repeated, before shaking his head and letting out a low whistle, "Lloyd doesn't generally hand those out to just anyone, does he?"

Johal shook his head. "Nope, and the material you guys had is going to be one hell of a bombshell." Then he laughed. "Hell, after we were the first to get the news about Brandi Miller and the Utopia links to that Child Prostitution ring yesterday, Lloyd's wishing he could add you to the payroll, but he knows we can't afford it."

"But then Utopia's pet networks will accuse CTV of bribery."

"Good point." Johal then motioned at his cameraman. "Jeff, get a shot of the atrium and the café area, okay?" He looked back David and shrugged. "I figure we should at least show the public what the interior here looks like since N!Channel is depicting this place as the, and I quote them directly, 'cold dark sanctuary where David Flynn quietly plans and carries out his business'."

"Really," David said in mock surprise, this is my cold dark sanctuary?" He then gestured to the lounge area. "I guess this must be my throne room where I sit all day and plot the downfall of mankind and attempt to take over the world." He dropped into one of the chairs and struck a dramatic thinking pose. "And this is where I, the evil David Flynn, think evil thoughts like," he suddenly paused and sniffed the air, "I smell bacon. Ashley must be making her quiche again." He then looked over at Johal and his crew. "You guys hungry?"

* * *

_**{Scene cuts to Mark Johal and David Flynn sitting at a table in a cafeteria}**_

_**Mark Johal: "David, I gotta' tell ya, people are still in a state of disbelief. You only surfaced a few months ago and, within those few months, you've taken over your father's company, renamed it, and are well on your way to becoming a household name."**_

_**David Flynn: "I would say that, though I'm certain some a lot of people out there mutter my name already, usually accompanied by an obscenity or an insult."**_

_**{Both men laugh at that, and laughter can be heard in the background as well}**_

_**MJ: "Well, you have to admit that you've made a big splash, coming out of nowhere and already kicking out industry breaking products within a couple months."**_

_**DF (chuckles): "You make it sound more impressive than it is. Actually, Nintendo, as you know, was willing to be a partner in this project and I can honestly tell you that tonight is going to change the console gaming industry forever, but it will only be the beginning."**_

_**MJ: "So, this is more than just a one time project then?"**_

_**DF: "Oh yeah, definitely. I know this is a little bit before my time, but remember that old TV ad they did back in the 80s when Apple unveiled their Macintosh PC, the one with the freakish man on the screen telling all these drones what to do and stuff?"**_

_**{cut to the clip of the infamous "Macintosh/George Orwell's 1984" ad}**_

_**MJ: "I remember that."**_

_**DF: "This will be like that."**_

_**MJ: "Well, you already made quite an impression at the Pacific Electronics Expo when you stepped out on stage last week and declared the latest developments by Sony, ViaSoft, and Novation as obsolete. Although, a lot of people had dismissed your claim as hype; what do you have to say about that?"**_

_**DF (smiling at the camera): "Oh, I'll admit it…it is hype. However, this is the kind of hype they hate because I can back it up and, after tonight, I can guarantee the competition is going be scrambling for cover. What you saw at the Pacific Expo was just a glimpse. All you saw was a video, footage of some games, and quick product shot of the game system. Believe me, when you see the actual device and what it is capable of, it will be a game changer to the gaming industry."**_

* * *

**_Houston, Texas_**

**_Last Chance Bar & Grill_**

Buddy was never a heavy drinker, but he figured he should at least buy a round of drinks for the crew before they embarked on their little "mission"…a sort of show of 'solidarity among the troops'. The Proprietor of the Last Chance was a supporter of the Church of Michael so it wasn't that big a deal to hold such a gathering at the roadhouse a few miles on the outskirts of Houston. While Horton and his crew were shooting pool, drinking, laughing, and bragging about "fighting the good fight", Buddy was content to simply keep quiet and speak only when they sought his opinion. It was obvious that Horton believed himself to be in charge of this operation and Buddy made no move to make the man think otherwise.

_After all, you'll be dead when this over so I might as well let you enjoy your last few days of glory. But at least you'll die a martyr…a "hero for the cause", as will most of the lemmings that follow you._

He raised his mug of beer in a toast to Horton's crew and the cause and then turned his attention to the small wall-mounted television hanging over his table in the corner. Over the last few weeks, in addition to planning this little 'raid' on a Utopia Rashoud facility, Buddy was curious at seeing what the little bastard of his was up to. When Lansing had informed him that his little "test tube project" was unleashed, Buddy had assumed that Mirage was behind it. However, after seeing the young man's actions, Buddy was certain that was not the case. Given the parameters and protocols gone into creating the algorithmic AI, this "David Flynn" was certainly not acting like the Case Black AI, nor was it the pathetic little AI that Saunders thought he kept hidden from Buddy by keeping it in the bio-chip implanted in the specimen in the cloning chamber on Nomansian.

As he watched David Flynn's interview, Buddy noted some of the kid's mannerisms were similar to his own, but he seemed to move with a fluid grace and confidence that reminded Buddy of Mirage.

_Ah, Melissa, I'm surprised you let this thing loose. If you had discovered it, I thought you would have tried to kill it…and your brother-in-law for helping me._

Buddy doubted Mirage had anything to do with the kid's upbringing, he was too flippant and Mirage wouldn't have allowed that kind of attitude in the kid.

_And the kid must have been raised by someone outside of Melissa's influence, because he's staunchly anti-Utopia and anti-Aeon._

As the interview continued, Buddy couldn't help feeling a sense of pride as David Flynn skillfully worked his way through the interview and showed off some of his inventions.

_Damn, the boy's done some nice work on some of my projects, refined them to the point of perfection. And he's come up with some goodies of his own…it almost sucks that I have to kill him._

To his surprise, Buddy did feel a twinge of regret at that thought. Killing David was always an objective, but, despite what Lansing and his masters might have believed, Buddy didn't want to kill David for selfish and personal reasons. David Flynn was probably one of the few beings on this planet who could stop him and that was why the little bastard had to die.

_They say the greatest enemy you'll ever face is yourself and they're right, though I doubt they didn't think this kind of situation would ever happen. Which brings up another question…who the fuck are "they" anyway?_

He shrugged away that lost thought and proceeded to start eating the bacon cheese-burger on the plate in front of him, savoring the taste of the first bite. After a couple more moments of enjoying the moment, he went back to more pressing issues, like the assault on the Utopia complex in Houston. Even with Horton's meddling, Buddy was sure the raid would be a success. His only concern was that Utopia wouldn't have any of their more powerful novas on scene right away.

_It's doubtful that Pax will be there, but I hope Utopia will be gullible enough to send a T2M task force to deal with the situation. I just hope they send one of their heavy hitters._

Though the others involved with the raid were expecting to run into nova resistance, it was obvious they weren't expecting actual T2M members to be involved. Buddy, on the other hand, was hoping Horton's team would do enough damage that Utopia would call in the "big guns". Truthfully, his plan was counting on it.

_Granted, we don't need a T2M nova involved, but it will go a long way towards striking into the heart of Utopia and its supporters. If things go according to plan, this will fuck things up and cripple them for awhile._

He then looked up and glared at the image of his "son" walking down a corridor with the CTV reporter.

_And then, boy, we're gonna' have ourselves a father/son reunion._

* * *

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

About an hour later, David was leading Johal and his crew through the facility. "As you can see, we got various labs and work areas," he was saying, looking at the camera, "pretty much the same boring stuff you would see at any tech firm."

"Comin' through!" David and the CTV crew pushed themselves against the wall as the reptilian Shiro Murakami sped by them on roller-blades. Then he suddenly stopped and slowly rolled backwards to where David was standing. Even though he was wearing goggles, his glowing yellow eyes could still be seen beneath the darkened lenses as they flashed his excitement. "Bossman," he said, holding up his data-pad, "you'll never believe what Zoe, Saunders, and I came up with! It's fucking awesome, check it out!" He pushed the data-pad and started rattling off in techno-babble in barely coherent English."

"Shiro," David said, putting a hand on the creature's shoulder, "chill!" Then he smiled and shook his head. "How many mochas have you had?"

"Um…since Zoe introduced me to Saunders yesterday….twelve, but I'm okay. But check this out; Saunders gave some ideas on how we can improve the OCS processing capability."

"Okay," David said holding his hand up to signal Shiro to quiet down, "time for you to de-tox. I need you somewhat stable for tonight, so drink some water and crash for a few hours."

"B-but the plans…"

"I'll look at them tomorrow, okay?" Shiro nodded and then continued down the corridor. David shook his head and laughed before returning his attention to the CTV crew. "Never a dull moment with that guy."

"Um, who was that?" Johal asked.

"Oh, that was Shiro, one of my lead programmers and techs," David said. "C'mon, don't tell me you guys haven't seen a nova before."

"Not wired and over-caffeinated like that."

"Okay, you got a point, just be glad it wasn't my Promotions and Advertising Director."

"You talking about the pink-haired lady who blows things up in your promo videos?"

"Yep."

Johal shuddered as he recalled some of the early SST promotional videos that had hit Youtube only a couple months earlier. The fact that the pink-haired girl might be as hyperactive as she was portrayed in those videos was very disturbing to him. "So," he finally said, "where do you want to do the rest of this interview?"

* * *

A couple hours and a few interview segments later, David was walking through the large outdoor video pavilion that was set up in the main parking lot, pausing for a moment to stand on the stage that he would be standing on a few hours later as he unveiled the OCS to the world and announcing SST's official public debut. He smiled as he recalled what Zoe had planned for the event and glanced up to see the zip-line that had been installed overhead. Part of him was starting to believe that, maybe, the others were right about Zoe and that she truly was insane.

_Well, given the fact that she's known for blowing stuff up in those Youtube videos with some of my gadgets, what should I expect?_

A playful bark broke his line of thought, the only warning he got before his legs were attacked by an Australian Shepherd puppy. He smiled and knelt down, scratching behind the dog's ears. The sudden gust of wind a couple seconds later was the other warning he got before he felt arms wrap around his neck from behind in a hug.

"Thankyou, Thankyou, Thankyou…thecarisawesome, awesome, awesome…I loveit, Brodylovesit, Ashleylovesit…thankyouthankthank you!"

Before David could respond, Zoe kissed him on the cheek and then disappeared in a pink blur. David looked down at Brody who was whimpering at him. "Hey, she said she wanted a car," David replied. "I know, a super-speedster doesn't need a car, but look at it this way, now you can sit in the back seat while she drives you around."

There was another gust of wind and Zoe was back, mocha in hand. She took a sip and looked around. "Gotta' admit, David, this is fucking cool."

"Yeah," David agreed as he stood back up, "it is cool. So, I take it you finished your exams."

"Oh yeah, did those early this morning, cruised the freeway while listening to various radio stations talk about how you destroyed Brandi Miller." Then her smile faded a little. "Mom and Dad don't like the idea of me having a car, though. They think I'm too immature and impulsive to drive a car."

David had to fight to keep his expression neutral. "Wow, how awful," he said. "I don't know why they would ever come to that conclusion."

Zoe glared at him for a moment, before suddenly reaching over and smacking him on the back of the head. "That's for sarcasm." Then she hugged him again before skipping off, pausing for a moment to glance over his shoulder. "C'mon Brody…let's go see if the toys are ready for tonight."

The Austalian Shepherd let out a playful yip and scampered after her. David laughed as they watched them walk off and then turned his attention to his cell-phone when it chirped at him. He pulled it out of his pocket and raised an eyebrow when he looked at the caller ID that said "Blocked Caller".

_Really?_

He mentally linked to the phone and its network, trying to track blocked number. He was mildly surprised when he tracked the signal through several towers and being bounced off a few random satellites at various intervals.

_Damn, whoever's calling must be one hell of a hacker…hmm…and pretty fast too…almost as good as me. I wonder if they have the same ability I do._

He was then rewarded by a voice mentally talking to him through the net.

_**Dammit, Flynn, just answer the phone and stop trying to track it. We're going to attract too much attention as it is.**_

_Who is this?_

_**Someone who could fuck you up really bad if we get into it.**_

David smiled at that veiled threat. _You may be right, _he thought back, _but I doubt you'll be in much better shape either._

_**True…look, a mutual friend of ours gave me your number and one of my associates wants to talk to you.**_

_If you don't mind me asking, which mutual friend are you referring to?_

_**Leo.**_

When hearing that name, David stiffened slightly. There was only one "Leo" he knew…a large reptilian nova named Leviathan.

_If Leviathan gave you this number, then there's only one member of his group I know of who is capable of what you're currently doing…I take it you must be Synapse._

_**Got it in one, Flynn. Look, just answer the phone, we only got a few more minutes before Utopia's cyber-novas get interested.**_

David sighed, nodding his head.

_Fine, but after this, we need to talk._

He hit the receive button on the phone. "Hello?"

"David Flynn?" The voice had a slight accent; David was guessing it was British.

"Yeah," he replied, "I'm here, but I think you have me at a loss since I don't know your name."

"Call me Booth…and please, no snide comments."

"Okay, Mr. Booth," David said, "you got my attention. So what do you want to talk about?"

"Weaponized Zero Point Technology."

David almost dropped the phone in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me just fine, Mr. Flynn. I want to talk to you about the Zero Point Technology that was used in the attack on Mexico City."

David's eyes narrowed at that. "That had nothing to do with me."

"No," Booth admitted, "but you did use a form of that Technology to pull people out of the rubble." There was a pause, and then, "I should know, since you pulled me out with it."

A memory flashed through David's mind. One of the people he dug out of the debris, a man in his early thirties with a fucked up chest and bloody hands that looked like he had tried to claw his way to the surface. The man had an English accent and had recognized the technology before passing out from his injuries. David had meant to talk to the man, but he had vanished. "Well," he finally said after a few moments of awkward silence, "I take it you weren't one of the 'survivors' Utopia whisked off to their camp."

The man on the other end of the line chuckled. "Obviously, I take it you're aware that some of those survivors, those who saw what truly happened, have either vanished, died from their injuries, or came down with sudden cases of amnesia since they were transferred to the Utopia relief camps?"

"Doesn't surprise me, given what I know about them, but that's not why you're calling me."

"Not this time, though we will talk again on that matter, I am certain. I am going to ask you to be honest with me, Flynn. Weaponized Zero Point technology…have you developed any?"

"Truthfully, no; I won't lie to you, the applications are limitless but that would be something my father would have done, not me."

"But you wouldn't rule out the possibility in the future." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"No," David admitted, "but I'm still in the early stages of trying to get this stuff to work without blowing up on me. But don't expect me to make weapons primarily based on that tech. That shit, when properly harnessed, makes for an awesome power source, but weaponizing it…look…whoever attacked Mexico City apparently used weaponry with ZP tech. But if they were to build a ZP bomb…" David shook his head, his voice trailing off.

"I take it that's not a good thing."

"If you're lucky, it would be Sau Paulo times ten, and that would be using a minimal amount."

This time, Synapse's actual voice broke in over the conversation. "_**Please tell me you're joking."**_

"Afraid not," David replied. "But if what you're telling me is indeed true, Mr. Booth, then it already confirms what I feared when Mexico City went off."

Again, Booth's response was more of a statement than a question. "You believe someone is using your father's technology."

"Or something damn close to it. Whoever is behind this, they made damn sure they didn't leave many clues behind." There was another long pause and David was actually wondering if the connection had terminated. "Hello?"

"Gabriel," Booth finally said, "he calls himself Gabriel."

"_**Gabriel, that baseline nutjob who recently showed up with the Church of Michael?" **_Synapse didn't seem to buying that theory. "_**He's just a poser trying to be all big and bad."**_

"You weren't there, Synapse," Booth said, "you didn't fight him like I did. You didn't recognize his voice when footage of that Michaelite gathering was aired."

Suddenly, realization hit David. "Wait," he said, "you fought him? Then that would mean…" He trailed off, his mind linking back to the net. He could sense Synpase's presence/signal, but he was starting to detect faint multiple signals as well…signs that Utopia, or more likely Aeon, had detected the conversation and had dispatched their cyber-division to track and decrypt it. "Synapse, how much time we got left?"

"_**About a minute and a half," **_Synapse replied. "_**Damn, Flynn, you must have really pissed Utopia off because their talent is bringing their A-game."**_

"Then I'll make this brief," Booth said. "Flynn, by now, you've probably figured out who I am. As far as the world is concerned, let me stay dead. But just remember, someone who has access to your father's technology is now affiliated with the Church of Michael. Find out who he is and gather whatever information you can about him…I will be in touch."

"And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"Two reasons," Booth replied, "the first being that you don't strike me as the kind who wants that kind of technology falling into the wrong hands. And second, Leviathan spoke highly of you and, crude and obnoxious as he is, he's a decent judge of character. We both have a common cause in this fight, my young friend. For you, it's about keeping dangerous technology out of the wrong hands and, for me, it's personal."

"_**Twenty seconds," **_Synapse warned.

"And on that note, I shall end this call. Flynn, I'll be in touch. Synapse, cover our tracks."

"_**One dissipated digital trail coming up. Talk to you later, Flynn. And save me a game console…I fucking want one!"**_

"Synapse!"

"_**Okay…okay…ease off. You're real pissy for a dead guy…"**_

There was a click and the line went dead. David looked at the screen on his phone which informed him the connection was terminated. Then he grinned as he saw the signal for his cell-phone's network momentarily go out. A few seconds later, the connection was re-established. He didn't even need to link to the 'net to figure out that Synapse had probably knocked several cell-phone towers worldwide off-line for a couple seconds, pretty much disrupting any attempts to track them.

_Well, that was an interesting call._ Then his smile faded, his face becoming more somber at what he learned. _And it would appear that someone associated with the Church of Michael Archangel has gotten a hold of some ZP tech. The question is…how?_

He wasn't sure he liked that answer. With his biological father dead, no one else had access to that technology…unless…

_He was working with Aeon at the time before he died. I suppose it's possible they may have gotten their hands on some of his research. But even if they did, I doubt they would have given such stuff to those fanatics._

That left two other options then. Someone had either managed to steal it or…he shuddered at the next thought and violently pushed down that feeling of dread that tried to rear back its ugly head.

_No…my father, Buddy Pine, is dead._

Even as he pushed that lost thought away, that still didn't get rid of that chill that went down his spine. Though he never considered himself to be religious, David momentarily offered a silent prayer to whatever deity was out there, if there was one.

Praying that his father truly was dead.


	21. And the shot was heard around the world

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles, Brad Bird does (and I'm glad neither he or anyone from Disney reads this stuff). Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does (though I would buy the abandoned property from them if I won the Lotto). Don't own Null, Bridgette, or Damon Best, those were characters created by others who let me use the characters. Okay...also don't own Zoe either, but she's on permanent loan (and has a contract that I have to honor...LOL!) Kickjak is a character from the Aberrant RPG. He was also a cool character, despite being a "Utopia sanctioned" hero.

Author's Notes: This is going to be a weird chapter. A lot of shit happens here. Some of you *cough*Dani*cough* have been waiting for this moment. This is going to be a little different from how I tend to write chapters...because I'm writing some scenes in the form of a "script" because it's supposed to represent footage of some sort. Still not happy with how this turned out, but I'm tired and will probably come back and make revisions later. But I want to get these next couple chapters done quickly.

As usual, I want to thank the standard group; NC, the Plothook crew, Artificus, Crazystick, Shannon K, Starwing, Concolor, Walker, a few others who I probably can't remember at the moment, and that one person from Russia who keeps hitting this fic. Don't know who you are, but you keep tracking this fic for some reason, so I must be doing something right.

Oh...and keep in mind that it's October of 2006 in this fic. The concept of the "flex" keyboard is not a new one, though they are cool and I figured it would make sense that, in the world of Aberrant, the technology would be possible to improve upon, especially with the concept of "eufibre" and it's various uses.

* * *

"_And we are coming to you from SST in Metroville, California. The atmosphere has taken on that of a rave or a rock concert. A couple groups have already performed on the main stage, entertaining the crowd who descended upon the facility's parking lot almost immediately when the front gates opened. As you can see, the main pavilion houses a large digital screen. In addition to the OCS, we have seen various other projects that SST intends to release to the public over the next year. We will be showing these later on in the show…"_

-Entertainment Tonight

"_And believe me when I tell you that this new game system will blow you away. Having already seen it and played it, I can guarantee that the gaming console war between companies just erupted again. Nintendo, Sega, and SST have successfully banded together and, as Flynn said, they are ready to 'take the fight right to Sony and ViaSoft's front doorstep'. There's even a rumor that Apple is already looking at filing a lawsuit against SST…"_

-E-Talk: On Scene

"_Despite our attempts, SST personnel have barred our people from the facility, suggesting that we film the event from across the street. In other entertainment news, Novation Media is considering a joint lawsuit with Apple against David Flynn's company…"_

-N!Channel: N!tertainment!

"_**Okay, fellow hackers…I will level with you. I have been to the dark depths of SST's development section, gone through various back doors, firewalls, and some really creative booby-traps that trashed some of my best tools…but I will tell you right now that it was worth it. The OCS…I'm not going to ruin it for you…but it is the real fucking deal! This is the new 'Holy Grail' for us gamers, my friends! A gaming system that looks like it was developed by hackers for hackers. Nintendo and Sega were on their way out, having fallen from dominance awhile back…but this project they have with Flynn…the commercials weren't lying, this is going to change everything! It's no wonder ViaSoft, Sony, Novation, and even Apple are shitting bricks…this threatens their strangle hold on the Electronic Landscape.**_

_**And to all you "old school" brethren of mine who miss the good 'ol days of games that were fun and required skill instead of just a mashing of buttons…Flynn, Sony, and Sega have a surprise for you. It's fucking awesome and worth it!"**_

_**Oh…and Flynn…if you're picking up on this…the moment the units go on sale, expect my payment to be wired to you within seconds!**_

-Aonymous hacker post on "H-Cove"

_{News segment, KMET Channel 10. Nate Corgan's interview with city councilman and mayoral candidate Lucius Best}_

_NC: "So you are actually in favor of the company coming to Metroville."_

_LB: "Absolutely. The fact that this young man shows up, buys a closed down school, renovates it, and converts it to his business headquarters tells me that he's actually serious about this neighborhood. It's no big secret that Mayor Sansweet has no love for the Southside and Memorial Boulevard area and has deliberately funneled project money from those two districts and into his precious 'Old Town' restoration project, from which he then diverts some of that cash towards districts he feel will carry his re-election. Flynn setting up his company here has helped the neighborhood. Local businesses that would have gone belly-up when my competitor shuffled the school districts around are still in business and thriving since SST started up. Other businesses are even starting to move in and a large number of David Flynn's employees have either rented or bought housing out here. This party he's throwing here tonight...yeah, he's charged people to attend, and any business would do that. But he's made it clear that SST is here and this is where he calls home. That rings true with the locals and it's not uncommon to see him running down the streets here every morning. He and most of his people have gotten to know the neighborhood and are regulars at some of the local businesses and markets. The only time Sansweet comes down to this area is when he needs a 'poor and impoverished' set piece for one of his ads."_

_NC: "Those are some pretty harsh allegations, Councilman."_

_LB: "Truth is almost always harsh, Nate, especially in politics. Take law enforcement for example. One year ago, we had the highest crime statistics in the area and the slowest response time. Since Flynn and his nova personnel have shown up, the crime rates have dropped considerably in the last few months. However, the response time of the police department is still pretty slow. We got the facts to back us up on this and my opponent knows this."_

_NC: "What about the concern that having SST, a company that employs novas here, possibly attracting nova criminals."_

_LB (rolls eyes): "Seriously, they're going to go with that old argument? Look, over twenty years ago, back when there weren't as many super-powered individuals around, that might have been the case, but this is the 21st century, Nate. After the Galatea incident and more supers…excuse me…novas, erupted…it was a different world. The ban on supers during the 80s and 90s had been lifted, but very few were operating actively when that event occurred. Those people who suddenly had powers…most of them are from a different world. They're more practical and realize that, in today's society, things are very different. Why be a criminal who can rob banks with super strength when they can go into the construction business and make more money doing that than just making a score? It also works the other way…why be a "superhero" when you can go into law enforcement or private contracting and actually get PAID to do the job? And then you have others who simply will stay in the field of employment they're in and probably market their power and skills for profit. Sure, you've got some people who might go the hero/villain route, but not so much. Hell, even the so called 'premiere' hero group, Team Tomorrow collects a paycheck from their employer, along with royalties from whatever products they're paid to endorse. Believe me, if anything, SST is probably more likely to attract prospective employees instead of criminals."_

_NC: "That's nice, but what about us lowly, unpowered 'baselines'?"_

_LB: "You mean the baselines that have businesses here or are finding jobs out here because new businesses are opening up? I don't know, I think they're fine. As for Flynn's company, yeah, most of his employees, like himself, are novas but there are a few baseline employees there as well. He's not just employing novas here, Nate, he's employing the best and brightest talent he can find and there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"_

_NC: "So you're not concerned about David Flynn's anti-Utopia views?"_

_LB (chuckles): "Maybe I'm the wrong person you should be asking that question, Nate. You know I'm not a big fan of Utopia, but I do approve of some of the humanitarian work they've done both in inner-cities and abroad. I do believe a good number of people in that organization are decent people who believe in what they're doing and are trying to do the right thing. It's the political hacks running the departments and walking around with their 'holier than thou' attitude I can't stand. And, given my opponent's questionable record on some political deals he's made with Utopia, you can understand my issues with that organization."_

_{End clip}_

_{Cut to video feed coming from CTV's "E-Talk: On Scene" with Mark Johal}_

_Mark Johal: "Mark Johal here and we are streaming to you from SST headquarters down here in Metroville, California." (Turns to the a crowd of people standing behind him, some waving and posing at the camera) "Everyone having a good time tonight?"_

_(A loud roar of approval from the crowd, some holding up cans of soda, mochas, or energy drinks)_

_MJ (laughing): "As you can see a lot of people have shown up for this open house party at SST. A few lucky people had gotten tours of the facility and, according to Zoe Kilmarten, SST's head of promotions and advertising, they do intend to arrange more tours to the public at various times. In case you haven't noticed, the crew standing here with me is an avid core of gamers…"_

_(The group around Johal cheer again and chants of "H-Cove! H-Cove! H-Cove" can be heard)._

_MJ: "As I was saying, a lot of videogame enthusiasts from all ages have attended along with local celebrities, a couple politicians, and even a couple novas, In fact, I've got one here with me now…" (The camera pans over to show a black-man with dreadlocks wearing a mask and dull gray body-suit, slamming back a large bottle of Power-Ade while onlooker cheer him on chanting "CHUG, CHUG, CHUG") "From the motor city, it's Detroit's very own Kickjak!"_

_(Kickjak finishes off his bottle of power-ade, then his hand glows for a moment, causing the bottle to disintegrate. This gets a cheer from the fans, some of whom begin chanting Kickjack's name)_

_Kickjack: "Thanks for having me on, Mark."_

_MJ: "Now, Kickjack, I have to admit that I'm surprised to see you here. After all, you are a Utopia sanctioned nova and, as you know, a lot of people at SST don't care much for Utopia."_

_K: "Hey man…I got in here like the rest of these guys did, I paid my admission!" (Holds up a ticket stub and people cheer. He laughs and shakes his head) "But Yeah, you're right, Utopia and SST have their differences, but that's not me. I'm just kid from Detroit who got lucky, and I'm still that kid from Detroit. Utopia's 'sanction' means that I'm allowed to operate in that city without too much hassle from the law enforcement. Then again…"(he grins sheepishly)"that's Detroit, and the concept of law enforcement is still new to the politicians there."_

_(This gets some laughter)_

_K: "But seriously…I'm here on my own. Like the rest of the peeps here, I'm here to see the new game system because I want to know what I'm gonna' buy myself for Christmas."_

_MJ: "So you haven't had any problems with any of the novas here?" _

_K: "No, man, they've been pretty cool with me. But stay away from the pink haired girl and her coffee…" (shudders) "…she's scary!"_

_MJ: "Okay…I just got informed that the presentation is about to begin. Kickjak, thanks for taking time to hang out with us."_

_K: "Not goin' anywhere, Mark…I think I'll hang out with you people for the show." (Glances over his shoulder at the crowd around them) "That cool with you, people?"_

_(A loud cheer from the people and Mark laughs)_

_MJ: "Okay…no problem here. We're switching to the main feed starting…now."_

_(Cut to a new camera angle as the lights go out for a second, only the light from the massive onstage video screen providing illumination. Then pyrotechnics explode above the crowd as "The Last High" by The Dandy Warhols begins to play over the sound system speakers. Suddenly, Zoe Kilmarten comes zooming down overhead via zip-line, stopping onstage as a large burst of pyrotechnics and laser light erupt around the stage, prompting a loud roar of approval from the crowd. When the display finally dies down, the lighting has returned to the stage and Zoe is smiling at the crowd, aluminum baseball bat in hand with "Blunt Force Trauma Applicator" inscribed on it. Behind her, multiple pedestals, about three feet high each, stand on the ground.)_

_Zoe: "So, everyone having fun?"_

_(This gets another loud roar of approval and cheering from the fans. One person could be heard screaming "Start blowing shit up!")_

_Zoe (laughs, shakes her head): "Sorry, not today. We're going 'old school' tonight!" (She twirls the bat in her hand, prompting more cheers. She smiles and waits for everyone to quiet down a little before she continues. Then she starts to pace in front of the audience a couple seconds, brandishing bat with hands before stopping to look at the audience) "Before David throws the future at you, it was decided that we should take a little walk through the past. So…join with me as we stroll down…" (she gestures at the pedestals behind her which are suddenly illuminated by multiple spotlights. By now, the onlookers can make out old game consoles on the pedestals)"…the hall of ancient artifacts and relics of the past!"_

_(Zoe walks up to the first pedestal, picking up a 3x5 index card that was on the old game console, and then proceeds to read from it)_

_Zoe (clears throat): "In the 1970s…back when dinosaurs ruled the world and listened to something called the 8 track…" (She blinks for a moment, a confused look on her face) "Um…what's an 8 track?"_

_(This gets some laughter…seeing as how almost everyone there, Zoe included, were born AFTER the 8 Track tape had long disappeared from memory. She shrugs, crumples the 3x5 card and tosses it over her shoulder)_

_Zoe: "Oh, fuck it. This, people, is the one that made it, the old prehistoric ancestor to the modern video game console…I give you…the Atari 2600 video game system!"_

_(This gets some gasps and even a couple cheers)._

_Zoe: "To give you an idea how old these things are…my parents were teenagers when these first came out! However…simple as they were…the games were entertaining and, even today, the system is still thought of fondly, even among modern day gamer."_

_("Damn Straight!" yells out one member of the crowd, others murmuring in agreement)._

_Zoe (reaching over to pick up the Atari system): "And so..we shall show proper respect to this long gone, but not forgotten ancestor of the game system, by insuring that their legacy shall continue…so…who wants a working antique?"_

_(Several people raise their hands and Zoe tosses the old system in their direction and moves on to the next pedestal, showing another game system)_

_Zoe: "Our next contestant is the Atari knock-off known as the Mattel Intellivision…a weird little device as you can see that had funky controllers with a key pad. The games sucked, the graphics were hard to differentiate from the snow on the TV screen, and, to be honest…was very lacking."_

_(She suddenly swings at the pedestal with her baseball bat, shattering the old game system and scattering its remains across the stage…getting surprise gasps followed by cheers of approval and applause)_

_Zoe (walking up to the next pedestal): "Next up…the ColecoVision!"_

_(A mixture of cheers and boos erupt from the crowd)_

* * *

David watched from off stage as Zoe made her presentation and couldn't help smiling.

_Damn, she's enjoying this way too much._

He had talked the idea over with Zoe a couple days ago and they both agreed that some items were to be treated with respect, others were to be destroyed on stage. The original Atari system, the Nintendo systems, and the Sega consoles were to be left untouched or given to random members of the audience. Zoe agreed with that, but whined when she was informed that she would not be allowed to use any projectile or energy shooting device to destroy the other various consoles.

"Incoming!" Zoe, tossed a PS2 up in the air and swung hard, catching the falling console and shattering it, scattering it's electronic innards across the stage and sending some components flying into a cheering audience. "Next up! The X-BOX!"

David felt a tap on his shoulder, and glanced over to see Violet walking up next to him. "Don't you think this is going a little overboard?" she asked, although one could tell that even she was trying not to laugh as Zoe then proceeded to pound on a ViaSoft X-Box with her baseball bat.

David shrugged. "Maybe," he replied with a grin, "but I had to let her have some fun. Just be thankful I didn't let her use the plasma cannon."

"Okay, you got a point." Violet shuddered as she remembered some of Zoe's antics with one of David's devices in a Youtube video. "But I'm concerned with what you're about to do."

"Oh, you mean unveiling a video game and PC console to the world with new technology?" David pretended to think about it for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, you're right...I think I'll just go home and get back to counting down to Zoe's eighteenth birthday when she's legal. Although, I did have this dream the other night that involved you and her dressed in tight leather and carrying whips and chains-"

"Okay...too much information there," Violet said, shaking her head. Then she saw the smug grin on his face and punched him in the shoulder. "You made that up, dammit!"

"Ow! Okay, you're right, I made it up." Then David smiled at her again. "It was just you with a whip telling me I've been ba-OW!" David rubbed his shoulder after Violet hit him again.

"Now you're deliberately changing the subject," Violet snapped.

"Of course I am, we don't need to talk about it."

"David, this is serious. I'm not saying we should hold back on the OCS, but do you think it's wise to let something out so quickly? It's going to cause shock waves."

"Well, that is the general idea, Vi. Even with the leap in technology over the last few years, it's been controlled, but not for the 'greater good', but more for making a profit off of stuff already outdated. All I'm doing is hitting the 'reset' button on the competition."

"That's all well and good, David," Violet said, "but they already got lawyers lined up to take us on."

"Oh, I'm sure they do, but they know they can't make it stick." David's grin suddenly took a more sinister look, briefly reminding Violet of Buddy Pine. "I'm sure Gates and Jobs don't want to talk about the past and the concept of piracy and property theft. As for Utopia...well...if we don't step up, they'll let their corporate subsidiary, Irridium, step in and destroy the market with technology they confiscated from others and try to pass off as their own."

"Wait, hold on, do you have proof of this?"

David's answer came in the form of a soft and sinister chuckle. "Vi, believe me, if Utopia comes after us for this, certain facts and patent questions are going to come to light, and I'm not talking about the ones they've already scrambled to cover." He then nodded to Zoe who briefly glanced in their direction, signaling her to wrap up her presentation. "Besides," he added, "everything we've done is legal and by the book."

"Yeah, well, it looks like Utopia is trying to rewrite that book."

David shrugged. "Maybe so," he admitted. "Hopefully we can stall them long enough before they succeed in that."

Violet was about to ask him what he meant by that, but was cut off as "Schizophrene" by Ankst roared through the pavilion's sound system. David smiled as he sang along to the lyrics of the song before looking over his shoulder at her. "Well," he said, picking up the small briefcase by the stage entrance, "it's show time!"

He waited a couple minutes as the fans were entertained by the laser-light show and video footage of the various games that would be coming out for the new gaming console. During that time, the stage was dimly lit, allowing for Zoe to kick on the super-speed, clean up the debris from her little show and set up a small table without being noticed. He waited until the closing lyrics began to play and quietly slipped onto the stage.

"_I must be free from what it is...the more I see the more I bleed._

_I have confirmed my lack of faith, the angel wings...you seal your fate._

_I'm not fool I was before, I will not go there anymore..._

_I recognize the truth..._

_I recognize the truth..._

_I recognize the truth..._

_I recognize the truth..."_

The lights to the main stage kicked back on, and David stood there, smiling at the crowd as he calmly set the brief case on the table. He waited for the applause to die down before he spoke. "The year was 1984," he began, giving a slight smirk to the crowd that he knew would be picked up by the camera and shown on the large screen behind him, "and a lot of us probably weren't even born yet or were just learning to walk at that time." He paused for a moment to let the laughter his comment caused to die down before continuing. "It was Superbowl Sunday and a certain computer company aired an ad that made history. Even though some of us weren't born yet, I'm sure you've all seen the Macintosh/George Orwell's 1984 ad at some point?"

He smiled again as most of the audience cheered and applauded, then a thoughtful look formed on his face. "So, am I the only one who's a little concerned right now that I'm talking to you while my ugly mug is being displayed on the giant screen behind me and this whole thing is being broadcasted worldwide?" He then turned to glance at the big screen and pretended to gasp in horror. "Oh god, I can see that little zit on the back of my neck!"

Again, this got more laughter from the crowd and he chuckled as he turned to look back at the crowd. "But seriously," he continued, "we truly are living in amazing and interesting times. When you think about it…back then, in 1984, the world we live in now was mostly seen as a world of science fiction. In 1984, when Apple introduced the Macintosh, it threw everything on its ear and, quite literally, jumped technology ahead by about a decade. Yeah, I know, some of you want to make some snide comment about Microsoft and that whole little feud with Apple, but we're not going there tonight. That's in the past and it's time to leave that in the past. In fact, the only reason I'm talking about Apple and what they did back then is to make this one simple point: What they did to the PC industry back then, is what I'm going to do both the PC and video game console industry tonight."

David opened the case and pulled out the Omega gaming console and set it on one of the now vacant pedestals. There were some gasps and murmurs from the crowd when they saw the nine and a half inch long and six and a half inch wide black box that appeared to be no more than an inch thick. "Yes," he said with a grin, "it's really that small. Using our new Omega chip technology, this thing has faster processing power and graphics capability than anything Sony or Viasoft is currently working on. Not only that, it's also Wi-Fi capable allowing access to the net or even remotely linking up with the new Wi-Fi television sets coming out these days. It also comes with two controllers that are wireless as well." He reached over and pulled two sleek controllers out of the case and set them next to the console. "They are linked to the gaming console and both the console and controllers are motion sensitive which you will all be able to see in action shortly." On cue, the sixty small kiosks surrounding the area lit up as the sheets were pulled off them to show multiple console stations where the audience could get up close and personal with the product. "This is the base system and, I won't lie to you, people, it's going to go for about four hundred and fifty bucks."

David then held up a hand to calm down some of the cries of "That's expensive" and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know, it sounds steep. However, I'm not done yet. When these things go on sale on Black Friday, there's something you should know. As I said, this thing is net capable and I'm assuming most of you here have high-speed service, right?"

Several members of the audience cheered in response.

"Okay then…as you know, Nintendo and Sega are partners with SST on this baby. For one year, starting this Black Friday to next year's Black Friday, almost every game Sega and Nintendo made for their consoles from the last two decades will be available for download. If you purchase this system within that year, you will be allowed to download twenty games of your choice from their archive. Oh…and before you ask, yeah…there is space on the drive for that which brings me to the final selling point." He smiled again as he pulled a plastic tube out of his coat, opened it, pulled out the item inside which he unrolled in front of the console, revealing it to be a keyboard that began to glow a faint electric blue color as it activated. "We will also be selling these for the console starting in January as well, although a regular wireless and even a USB keyboard will work if you provide the cord." He then reached over and pushed the power button to the gaming console. The video screen switched to show the electric blue SST logo as the system powered up before revealing a digital desktop. "That's right people; it also has its own operating system and is a fully functional PC. Granted, it's only got a couple hundred gigs on it, but it is fully functional, has its own net browser and utilities, and it is fully legal." He smiled again, knowing full well that certain corporations were already ordering their lawyers to storm the SST offices with legal paperwork in hand. "Bill, Steve, and you greedy bastards at Sony, if you're watching…you may want to pull your lawyers back because, like I said, everything is legal. You guys will just have to actually come out with new quality products instead of just regurgitating the same old stuff and slapping a new version number on it…or at the very least, give the people something that's worth the amount of money you gouge them for."

The last comment got some laughter from the crowd, several members going "Oooooooh!" at the fact that David was practically calling out the longtime rulers of the electronic market, practically throwing the gauntlet down in challenge.

"The world's changing, people," he said, "I know it's stating the obvious, but let's face facts. A revolution in this industry was due and we are starting it." He gestured to the crowd as if they were part of the 'revolution' he was talking about, a sentiment that played well judging from the shouts of approval he was hearing. "But don't take my word for it...walk around, check out the various kiosks. Try the future and see if you like it, that's all I ask."

With another gesture, the main stage lighting dimmed while the large video screen flashed to life. "Tournament mode engaged," a cool female voice announced, "participants are encouraged to log in at the various kiosks."

David smiled as he watched the crowd break off to check out the kiosks.

_Well, _he thought, _I just lit the fuse. I figure the lawyers will start hitting us first thing in the morning._

He started to walk off stage, but suddenly stopped when he caught a flash of dark brown hair near the front. He linked to the various security cameras, locking on the area he thought he saw her. He was surprised when one camera got a lock on her.

_Well, damn, Miss Saunders, I didn't think you'd actually pull off dressing like a goth, but you do it well._

He quietly slipped off the stage and followed her, pausing to occasionally talk to a few people but staying mentally linked to the security cameras to track Bridgette Saunders' movements. He finally caught up with her a few minutes later by the lobby entrance to SST.

"You know," he said, walking up behind her, causing her to jump in surprise and turn around, "I'd almost think you were trying to find some way to bypass that security lock if I didn't know any better."

Bridgette Saunders answered his smug grin with a cold glare of her own. "It wouldn't be that hard," she snapped, "it's a standard key-card entry, easily bypassed."

"Wow," David smirked, "you really like talking down to people, don't you?"

"Only the arrogant ones."

David pretended to wince. "Ouch...I do believe that's my ego that is starting to bleed. I just got a question...well, a couple questions actually. Why are you here and why the hostility towards me?"

"I was invited and I think you're an arrogant ass who likes to spit on Utopia and the good they've done just to make a profit."

"Wait, you were invited?" David asked before shaking his head. "Forget that, let's jump to the other bit. You really think I'm doing all this just to make a profit?"

"Your actions pretty much back up my argument. You destroyed Brandi Miller and the lives of others just to take a stab at Utopia."

David let his smug persona disappear, his expression becoming serious. "Oh yeah, I destroyed the lives of a bunch of pedophiles, but believe me when I say it wasn't just for shits and grins." His voice took on a venomous edge that seemed to take Bridgette by surprise. "That bitch, under orders from people within Utopia, was planning on launching a smear campaign against my co-workers and friends. If she simply went after me, that would have been cool and we would have had our little war which would have ended with me quietly confronting her and giving her a choice. But she made it personal by targeting people I care about and I decided she and her Utopia masters needed to be taught a lesson."

Bridgette laughed at him. "My god...you're starting to sound like those right wing nut jobs on talk radio. Don't tell me you believe there's some grand conspiracy behind everything."

"And please don't tell me you're one of those mindless little lemmings who will believe whatever hype Utopia feeds them," David countered. "Look around you, Saunders. Do you really think the world is that black and white? Because if you do, then you're going to be in for a very rude awakening when-"

David stopped himself, realizing that he was angry and almost said something he knew he'd regret.

"When what?" Bridgette sneered.

For a moment, David was tempted to tell her the truth but realized that would probably make things worse.

_Besides, _he thought, _it's not my secret to tell. I at least owe her father that much._

"Owe him what?" Bridgette asked, suddenly curious.

_Shit! Did I say that out loud? No, I couldn't. Oh fuck...it's the link!_

Bridgette's eyes narrowed. "What link...and you didn't speak it, did you?"

David shook his head. "We'll talk about this later, Bridgette," he said, turning to walk away. "This is not the time."

Bridgette grabbed him by the arm. "No, something's going on between you and my father," she said. "I saw it last night at dinner and you hardly said anything to me. My father has also been a little on edge around me. What's going on?"

"Forget it, Bridgette, this is none of your concern."

"Like hell it isn't."

"I said _**forget about it!**_" David snapped.

Bridgette suddenly stiffened at David's words, standing straight, a glassy and blank look on her face.

David stared in shock at her for a moment, closing his eyes as he regained his composure. Apparently, he had inadvertently linked with the nanites in her head. He severed the connection and waved his hand in front of her face. "Um...Bridgette...you okay?"

The young woman blinked a couple times, the glassy look fading away as she focused on him. "Of course I'm okay, Flynn. Now if you don't mind, I'm looking for Zoe. She invited me here and I don't feel like wasting my time talking to you."

David said nothing, but merely nodded and watched her walk off. When he was certain she was gone, he headed back to the main video pavilion to go find Violet.

* * *

About a mile away from the SST facility, Brian Paladino quietly lined up for the shot on David Flynn. He had toyed with the idea of taking the little shit out while he gave his speech, but thought it would be better to wait until people weren't paying too much attention to the egotistical little bastard. He then tracked David through the crowd and to the front door of the SST building where he argued with a dark haired woman. He almost took the shot then, but decided it just wasn't right.

* * *

Cloaked by the psychic shield she had created to shield their presence from Brian Paladino, Phillpa smiled at Chiraben and Zone. "You know," she said, smirking at clueless sniper standing a several feet away from them, "the vengeance obsessed mind is probably the most easy to manipulate."

"How so?" Chiraben asked.

"They become so obsessed with their target, so one tracked, all it takes is just a simple nudge to knock them just a little off course." She then fixed her gaze on Paladino again, linking directly to his mind, seeing what he saw. "So easy...especially when the subject's eye itches."

* * *

Brian tracked David back to the stage where he met up with some of his employees. Then he saw the long dark haired young woman talking to David and recognized her.

_Oh shit, Violet's there._

For a moment, he thought about calling it off. Maybe his half-brother, Greg, was right. Maybe it wasn't worth it.

_Fuck it, what does he know? All he wants to do is play combat photographer and forget about our father's murder. As for Violet...she's not the target. So what if she gets a little blood and brain matter splattered on her...it's not like she's in any real danger._

He focused back on Flynn again, then felt his eye begin to itch...probably from the dryness of staying open too long. He blinked a couple times, his eyelids providing much needed moisture and relief, killing the itch. He then realized that he must have moved because he was a couple degrees off target and adjusted his aim accordingly to line back up with Flynn's head.

* * *

Phillipa chuckled, shaking her head. "It's too fucking easy, sometimes...just the slightest change of one's perception...and it's all over."

Brian, smiled as he pulled the trigger.

* * *

David found Violet on the main stage talking to Shiro, Null, and Damon Best. "Um, guys," he said as he joined them on stage, "I think we need to have a talk later when this is over."

"Oh?" Violet gave him a playful shove. "The lawyers have already arrived?"

"Um...no...look, have you seen Zoe?"

"She said something about meeting up with a guest," Null replied.

"Um, yeah, she invited Bridgette Saunders here."

"She did?" Shiro popped his head up, looking for the aforementioned Ms. Saunders. "Cool, we can talk about the stuff we worked on yesterday."

David groaned and shook his head.

"David, relax," Violet said, "I know she's a little...off..."

"Hey, that's not nice," Shiro said.

Violet ignored him and kept talking. "As I was saying, she might be a little off, but-" Suddenly, she spun away from David and the others, flying backwards as something hit her in the shoulder before ripping through her back.

One second later, Violet was on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound.

"Violet!"

* * *

Brian blinked again, smiling as he watched the chaos, then his smile faded as he noticed Flynn was still alive and kneeling down to...prop up a bleeding Violet Parr!

_What the fuck! What happened? I had the shot! Flynn should be dead!_

* * *

"And that," Phillipa said as she nodded at Zone to take them away, "is what I call a painful lesson in perception. So...who's up for ice cream?"

The air rippled around the trio before they vanished as they had the day before, leaving a confused and panicked Brian Paladino behind.


	22. Ripple Effect I

Disclaimer (yeah, I know I've said it enough times, but I'm covering my ass here given how the copyright nazis are going nuts these days): Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (still plan on buying the rights to it when I win the Lotto). The Incredibles...owned by Pixar/Brad Bird (Even if I won the mega-millions, I could never afford to by the rights).

Author's Notes: Okay, folks, this chapter (and the next one or two after it) are going to be all over the place because it takes place right after Violet's shooting and we're going to see how various groups are going to react to it. We're going to see lots of points of view, separated by a "media break". Hope I don't lose you. I know I've said this is a roller-coaster ride...this is where we hit the twists and turns so hang on.

As always, thanks to those people who have stuck with me. The Plothook Crew, Rubypaladin, NC, Concolor, Capn Tripps (hey, man...give me an e-mail addy or something to contact you), the scary Shannon K, a bunch of other people I can't think of right now, and that one person from Russia who keeps tuning in...have no clue who you are, but you've been hitting this story all the time. Oh...and Walker...I haven't forgotten you either.

* * *

"_Mark Johal here and, once again, we are streaming to you live from SST headquarters down here in Metroville, California. You saw it here first, folks. The OCS, the Omega Gaming Console. There are over a hundred of these units here at various kiosks throughout the pavilion here. We've shown you footage of what this thing is capable of and I can tell you a lot of people are going to scrambling for this product on Black Friday. We got word that David Flynn will be making another announcement in about an hour from now. As you can see, he and some of his co-workers are having a small meeting up on stage behind us here-WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!"_

_(momentary flicker…static…dead feed for a couple seconds…)_

"_Wait, we're back on! What's going on? Someone's calling for paramedics…security is now making their way towards the stage. What happened?"_

_(more static…a couple more moments of dead feed)_

"_Okay, someone's been shot, that much we know. David Flynn is now back on-WHOA! One of his nova employees just tackled him! Someone just took another shot. One of stage display monitors just got hit…we got a sniper!"_

_(more static…streaming feed ends)_

* * *

_**SST Building**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**31 October 2006  
**_

David wasn't sure what exactly happened except for the fact that Violet was shot and bleeding out in front of him as he tried to prop her up and stop the bleeding. Only a few seconds ago, they were all talking and enjoying the evening and she suddenly spun and went down. He wasn't sure, but he thought he felt something whiz by his head, but he wasn't thinking about that. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that someone he had gotten to know and consider a close friend over the last few months was now dying.

Null and Jake Peters were quick to act and had security staff secure the stage area. Most of the people attending the event weren't even aware that something had happened until security moved in.

But again, David didn't care about that. "Vi…stay with me, okay?" He then looked up and yelled, "Nigel!"

"David…" Violet gasped weakly, "what…happened…so…cold."

"It's okay, Vi, just stay with me…don't go to sleep…"

"So cold…so...tired..."

"No, no, no…stick around, Vi…I need you to bitch me out over this, okay? Just stay with me…don't go…"

Nigel Morgan showed up seconds later. The British nova knelt down and gently touched Violet's shoulder. His hand glowed and then body Violet's began to glow for a couple seconds. "Okay," he said as the glow died down, "I've managed to stabilize her condition, but she's not good. We need to get her to a real hospital. Null, Jake, give me a hand here, David…you can let her go now."

However, David wouldn't let her go, still holding her.

"David, snap out of it," Nigel said more forcefully, "we got it from here and the paramedics are on their way."

For a moment, a mixture of emotions rippled across David's face. Shock, grief, anger…the usual emotions one would expect to see, but then his face suddenly settled into one of cold neutrality as he gently let Violet go. Then he stood up and looked around, almost as if he were oblivious to what was going on around him. He stared at where Violet was standing at earlier.

"David?" This was from Zoe who had just arrived on the stage. She wasn't sure, but she was starting to wonder if David was in shock as he walked by her as if she wasn't there. He stared at a section of the stage, a distant look in his face. "David," she said again, "are you alright?"

Truth be told, David wasn't alright, but he wasn't in shock either. Instead, he replayed Violet's shooting in his mind courtesy of his mental link to his company's security system and his own memory, slowing the footage down to the point of tracking the impact and the bullet itself. Then he expanded the link further, linking up to various other security camera networks in the surrounding area, tracing the trajectory. Fifteen seconds later, he turned, his attention focusing on a high-rise building off in the distance that was currently being renovated. He tried to link up with the security cameras there and found the whole system to be offline. So he linked to the cameras of the other nearby buildings and one orbiting surveillance satellite, zooming as much as he could to see a young man standing there, rifle in hand, shot lined up and pulling the trigger again.

* * *

Brian knew he should have run, followed his escape plan, and met up with Lydia at their safe house. But Brian was still in shock and trying to figure what happened.

_What the fuck just happened! I had the shot; I never miss a shot like that!_

He was certain he had the shot; he even corrected his aim when he momentarily drifted from his target when his eye itched. He had Flynn's head in his sights when he pulled the trigger. The next thing he knew, Violet Parr spun from the impact and went down.

_How did it happen?_

He stood there for almost two minutes before he came to his senses. With his enhanced eyesight, he could see SST security cordoning off the stage so medical staff could move in. Then he saw David Flynn, who was helping prop Violet up until the one of the staffers made him let go, stand up and then, thirty seconds later, turn and look in Brian's direction.

_Fuck! He can see me! How? _Instinctively, he raised his rifle. _Fine, you want to give me a free shot, I'll fucking take it!_

Then he pulled the trigger again.

* * *

One moment, David was locking on to the location of the shooter, preparing to get a closer shot on the man's face when he had the realization that the shooter was targeting him. This realization was confirmed when he was suddenly knocked to the ground and something shattered one of the small background video monitors behind where was standing. The next thing he was aware of was Zoe getting up off of him and shaking her head.

"Stay down," she said.

"Pacifica Trust building," he managed to gasp after managing to breathe after Zoe had knocked the wind out of him when she tackled him. "Shooter…on the roof."

"Okay, David, stay there." Zoe then looked over at Shiro and Null who were starting to make their way over back through the crowd and towards the stage. "Pacifica Trust Building," she called out before disappearing in a pink blur.

"Wait!" David yelled, but Zoe was already long gone. Shiro went airborne a second later and Null "misted" off before he could tell them otherwise. He was about to get up when someone punched up through the bottom of the stage and pulled him down underneath.

"Stay down, David," Ashley Winthrop said, shaking her head before keying the headset she was wearing. "Bossman's secure and undercover, Jake." She waited a second as she listened for instructions before talking to David again. "Jake says you should stay down until they get the guy."

"But I can-"

"What? Offer the shooter another shot at you?" Ashley shook her head again, giving him a grim smile. "You know, for a mega-genius, you can be an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

* * *

Brian realized he had really fucked up when, only an instant after he pulled the trigger, the pink haired young woman who was standing off to the side talking to David Flynn suddenly blurred out of existence and tackled Flynn before the bullet could reach him and ended up hitting a display monitor instead. He then saw the pink haired girl get up off of Flynn then turn and look in his direction, yell out something to some people nearby, and disappear in a pink blur.

The only warning he got came a couple seconds later as he was running for the fire exit door when it burst open and a gust of wind slammed hard into him, knocking him to the ground. He rolled with the blow, coming back up off the ground in a defensive crouch as he looked up at the pink haired girl standing in front of him.

"Okay, asshole," the girl snarled, bringing up a fist that was starting to crackle with electricity, "please, give me an excuse to fry your ass!"

Brian did a quick mental assessment what he was up against. Whoever this girl was, she was a super-speedster and could obviously generate electricity. However, from the way she was standing, he could tell that she was mostly untrained and not used to a combat situation. "You're making a big mistake," he warned.

"You just shot a friend of mine and tried to kill my boyfriend, I think you're the one who fucked up!"

Brian filed that little bit of information away for use. "Well," he said, "I want to say that you just made this easy for me." Before the young woman could react, a concentrated beam of force exploded from his eyes, sending her crashing through the door she came out of. "Fucking amateurish bitch," he snapped. He contemplated shooting her, but decided against it. Then he felt a fiery pain his shoulder as something grabbed him, lifted him off the ground and sent him sprawling across the building roof top. Once again, he rolled with the impact, coming back up on his feet, but he failed to block the claws that ripped across his chest that were then followed by a kick to the face which sent him back down again.

"Don't get up, asshole." The creature sounded Asian. Brian blinked a couple times to clear his vision and saw a winged reptilian creature about four feet tall glaring at him. "Zoe," the creature called out, turning to look in the direction of the pink-haired girl, "you okay?"

"Y-yeah…watch out though, he can fire-"

Brian sent a force blast off before the girl could warn her friend, but the creature managed to jump out of the way. Brian got back on his feet, preparing to fire another blast when something hard hit him in the middle of the back. He actually heard a couple rips crack from the impact and dropped to the ground in pain, breaking his concentration. He rolled over and saw a Native American man with long black hair standing over him, an evil grin on his this face. "Okay," the man said, his grin getting bigger, "so they're amateurs. I'm just sadistic."

The last thing Brian saw was the man's fist before pain and oblivion claimed him.

* * *

"_We have confirmed that there was a shooting at the event taking place at Syndrome Software & Technologies. Authorities are still trying to determine what exactly happened, but they do have a suspect in custody."_

_-_KMET News Channel 9

_N!CHANNEL: "Though we do not have access to the area and are only getting information second-hand, we happen to have someone who was there when it happened. The Utopia sanctioned hero from Detroit, Kickjak."_

_(reporter runs up to Kickjak who is watching an ambulance drive off)_

_N!CHANNEL: "Kickjak! What do you have to say about what happened at SST? Do you think this could have been prevented if Project Utopia was permitted to have a presence on scene?"_

_(Kickjak stops for a moment, a look of disbelief on his face)_

_KickJak: "What the fuck is your problem, lady? Someone just got shot and you want a goddamn commentary? Fuck you, bitch!"_

_(Kickjak walks away, the camera picking up him mumbling something about "fucking vultures". The N!Channel reporter seems a little stunned by his reaction)_

_N!CHANNEL: "Please tell me that didn't go out."_

_N!Channel Cameraman: "We're streaming live…"_

_N!CHANNEL: "FUCK!"_

-N!Channel newsfeed.

* * *

**_Ibiza, Spain_**

**_Castle Orzaiz_**

Sitting behind the desk in his study, Count Raoul Cristobal Orzaiz watched the news footage with interest, switching to various channels that were covering the events in Metroville, California. He found it interesting how there were apparently two camps when it came to the news media: Pro-Utopia or Anti-Utopia. It was easy to spot the Pro-Utopia networks during this story. The Pro-Utopia outlets were the ones who kept trying to weave their opinion into the story and went out of their way to say that the assassination attempt on David Flynn would not have happened if Flynn had permitted a Utopia presence at his facility.

The unaffiliated outlets tried to be fair and simply reported the facts…except for Fox News who went out of their way to paint the UN backed organization as evil incarnate but that was to be expected.

_Needless to say, Hannity and Colmes will be interesting to watch tonight._

He was, however, surprised at what he just saw on a live feed from N!Channel. It was no secret that N!Channel was being used by Utopia as their mouthpiece, but Raoul thought it interesting that a Utopia sanctioned nova would tell an N!Channel reporter to "fuck off" on a live feed.

_Then again, despite being registered with Utopia, Mr. Kincaid has made it clear that Detroit comes first, Utopia comes second. If my sources are to be believed, he's only going along with Utopia so they can help the city rebuild itself. However it would seem the incident in Mexico City may have taken Utopia's attention elsewhere. Perhaps we should approach Mr. Kincaid and offer some kind of support. If we do it publicly, this could earn the Teragen some good will from the general public and plant seeds of doubt about Utopia._

It was an intriguing idea, but Raoul decided to set that idea on the back burner and deal with the matter at hand. Someone had just tried to assassinate David Flynn and, though they had apparently caught the shooter, no one as able to determine who it was or their motivation.

_Not that it's going to stop speculation. Flynn wasted no time making enemies, but I don't see any one of them being dim enough to publicly assassinate him…at least not yet anyway._

A small window popped open on his computer monitor to display the glowing avatar form of Synapse. "_**Count, we got problems."**_

"That, Synapse, is a gross understatement. I take it you're monitoring all the media footage and law enforcement communications."

"_**It's more than that, Count. Only seconds after the shooting, Flynn did a 'flash-hack' of the entire city's communications and security grid."**_ Though the glowing avatar had no facial features except for the glowing eyes, the eyes seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. "_**He tracked the shooter and three of his crew brought the bastard down; then they turned him over to the authorities. Here's the thing though…Flynn's still flash-hacking."**_

Now that did concern Raoul. He had heard how David was able to mentally link with an orbiting Utopia weapons platform and use it to take out another satellite. If the boy was doing it again…

"Synapse, is Flynn trying to access any of Utopia's weapons satellites?"

"_**No, and it looks like the new firewalls they put up are still in place on those. But he is accessing…oh…my…god."**_

Raould didn't like sound of that. If Synapse was saying "oh…my…god", that was a sure sign things weren't good. "Talk to me, Synapse. What's happening?"

Synapse appeared to be looking off to the side, his glowing eyes widening in surprise. "_**Damn, I knew he was powerful, but not THAT powerful..."**_

"Synapse?"

"_**Sorry, Count...I'm not sure what exactly Flynn just did, but I'm getting hit with waves of data out here! I don't know how to explain it to you, but out here in cyberspace, some of the firewalls protecting some of the Utopia affiliated companies we've been monitoring...they just collapsed! Novation, Irridium, and Quantech Corporation...they're wide open!"**_

* * *

"_We have confirmed that shots were fired at the Syndrome Software & Technologies campus in Metroville, California. SST Vice President Violet Parr was hit by the first shot and, according to reports, was in critical but stable condition while en route to the hospital. The shooter was apprehended, but authorities have yet to identify him or determine the motivation behind the attack. While there are no official declarations, speculations are running rampant over the 'net..."_

_-CBC News_

* * *

_**Aeon Plaza Building**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

The last few weeks had not been good for Thetis. She had only relocated to the Aeon Plaza Building a couple weeks ago after Director Lavielle suggested that Project Proteus' objectives could be more easily carried out if the base of operations was relocated from Chicago to New York so it would be able to monitor and aid Utopia's progress more efficiently. However, Thetis was no fool; she knew that Phillipa Lavielle was doing. She was consolidating her powerbase and getting rid of anyone in Aeon Chicago who might pose a threat to that powerbase.

In essence, Thetis had been kicked out and it was all too apparent that Phillipa was doing her best to infuriate the older woman…daring her to strike back. However, despite all this, Thetis couldn't help admiring the young woman's finesse and ruthless style while keeping a cordial and sympathetic face for the public to see. Yes, the little bitch was psychotic and a threat to the overall plan, but she demonstrated many qualities that reminded Thetis of herself in her earlier years. However, Phillipa was too dangerous and too much of a loose cannon…she had to be dealt with before she had gone too far.

_And this is going too far, _Thetis thought as she watched the news footage coming from Metroville, California. David Flynn had been a thorn in Aeon's side, yes, and he would have been dealt with eventually. Although, in retrospect, perhaps unleashing the boy's father might not have been the best option. However, despite the destruction of the Neptune Facility and Mexico City, Buddy Pine seemed to have vanished. This attack on David Flynn and SST, however, was definitely not Buddy Pine, Thetis was certain of that.

_But it is something we should have done._

Except there was one small problem; Thetis never sanctioned the hit on Flynn.

_And my agents wouldn't have missed or hit the wrong target._

"I'm sorry, you can't go in there!" The voice of her secretary in the outer office interrupted Thetis' thoughts. "You need to make an appointment!"

"Like hell I do," snarled a man. A second later, the double doors to Thetis' office were thrown open as a man in his late 30s with blond hair and wearing a three piece suit stormed into the room. "Okay," he said, "the hell with protocol. What the fuck did you just do?"

Thetis looked up and inwardly sighed. She knew that this confrontation was coming, but she hadn't planned on it happening so quickly. "Director Laragione," she said, her tone neutral, "I'm assuming you've been watching the news."

Justin Laragione, the Director of Project Utopia (though Thetis considered it to be more of a PR position than an actual Director's job), shook his head angrily and gestured at one of the flat-screen monitors on the wall piping in a live feed. "Tell me you didn't have anything to do with this," he said. "Flynn was a problem, but this…even I didn't think you were that insane."

"It wasn't us, Justin," Thetis replied, keeping her tone neutral but she put a little edge on it, "and you shouldn't be jumping to conclusions in this line of work."

"Spare me your threats, Thetis," Justin snapped, pointing at the screen which showed the equipment that was found with the sniper. "That's Utopia security issued equipment they found. That stuff is only available at our own SECURE facilities."

"Obviously, the Utopia facilities are not that secure," Thetis countered.

"Obviously," Justin sneered back at her. "Then again, when it comes to handling our security and covert assets, you've made it very clear that is not in my jurisdiction. After all, according to you…I'm just a glorified PR man." The sneer vanished, but the anger was still there. "Oh yeah, I know about the conversations you've had with the various members of the Aeon Board, Thetis. You may have frozen me out, but I still have friends in Chicago." Then he smiled at her. "Which, apparently, you no longer have seeing as how you were banished out here to New York."

"Careful, Justin," Thetis warned, feeling her control beginning to slip a little, "you do not want to go there."

Before Justin could respond, he was interrupted by Ozaki who cleared his throat. Thetis and Justin turned to see him standing in the doorway. "If you two are finished," he said, "I would like to point out that it would appear you are both in the same situation."

"And what the hell would that be?"

Ozaki stepped into the office and calmly sat down in one of the leather chairs. "The fact that Aeon has turned their back on both of you, Mr. Laragione," Ozaki replied, "and that, despite your opposition to each other you are now on the same side. As far as Aeon is concerned, you are now both irrelevant."

Both Thetis and Justin were silent for a several seconds as they thought about Ozaki's words. From the look on their faces, it was obvious that neither liked what their future prospects looked like if Aeon had decided they went from being "irrelevant" to a liability.

"It would seem," Thetis finally said, breaking the silence, "that Ozaki is right; we are both irrelevant to Aeon." Then she added something to see Justin's reaction. "It would seem that the Director of Aeon wishes to go a new direction."

Disgust momentarily rippled across Justin's face before he hid it behind an impassive mask; but it was enough to reveal to Thetis his opinions about the current Director of Aeon. "I knew Phillipa was ambitious," he said, shaking his head, "but this is insane. We could have negotiated something with Flynn, but this is going too far."

"Indeed," Thetis said, thankful that Justin didn't know about Buddy Pine's existence because she was certain the man would have pulled out his pistol and put a bullet in her head right there if he learned of Proteus' involvement with the insane bastard's containment and release. "You say you still have friends at Aeon, Justin; what do they think of Director Lavielle?" Thetis doubted Justin would betray exactly who his "friends" were in Aeon, but she didn't doubt that he had them…just as she had her own supporters. However, if those same friends of his shared her view, then all was not loss.

"There are some who believe she's going too hard and too fast," Justin said. He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. "Screw it…the others think she's bat-shit insane."

_Good to know I'm not the only one who shares that opinion, Justin._ Thetis nodded in agreement with Justin. "Then you must agree something has to be done about her."

Again, Justin Laragione hesitated, but Thetis realized it wasn't out of fear. The man was mentally assessing the situation, weighing potential consequences of whatever actions they might take. After a few moments, he gave her a faint nod. "Agreed," he finally said. "Consider this a truce; but when this is over and things settle, there will be an inquiry and I will strongly suggest an oversight commission to watch your little band of hired cutthroats."

Thetis didn't say anything. Instead, she nodded her head in acknowledgement as the man turned and walked out of her office. She waited a couple minutes until a nod from Ozaki confirmed that Justin Laragione was no longer in the facility. "Well," she said with a smirk, "that went rather well."

Ozaki didn't seem that confident. "Might I point out that he did just say, should we succeed, that he would put a watchdog group on us."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll try," Thetis chuckled, "but it won't happen." She reached over, tapped a couple keys on her computer keyboard and looked up at the wall mounted video screen that began playing news from CTV. "Right now, we have bigger concerns. It would appear that Mr. Robertson and CTV are going to air a scathing special edition of their W5 program tomorrow. Have Johann make the call to Mezmerella, time to activate our sleeper."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Ozaki asked. "As it is, the media reports have confirmed that the weapon used was Utopia issued. If we sanction the CTV team, people will suspect Utopia involvement, no matter how much spin we try to put on it."

The malicious gleam in Thetis' eyes told Ozaki that she knew this. "Oh, that's the whole point, Hideo," she said. "Before you contact Johann, though, get a hold of Psyche. At least we know her loyalties are to us and not Phillipa."

"You believe Johann to be compromised." Ozaki realized where this was going. "And you want Allison to eliminate him right after he gives the order."

"Honestly, I don't care if Johann's been compromised or not, but he's made it clear that he's serving two masters and that makes him the perfect patsy." Thetis' grin got bigger. "I'm just glad that we used him as an intermediary when dealing with Mezmerella. She's only following orders, after all, and has no direct ties to us." Then a thoughtful look appeared on her face. "Have Johann also order her directly to Chicago and stay at an expensive hotel after she makes the call to our sleeper at CTV...and make sure you drop enough electronic evidence of that communication."

Ozaki blinked in surprise at that last part. "Are you certain you want to do that?" he asked, wondering if Thetis had momentarily lost her senses. "Because David Flynn will easily..."

He stopped in mid-sentence and surprise broke the usual calm expression he wore. "You want Flynn to find the trail," he said after realizing what Thetis was planning. "Because you've been kicked out of Chicago and Phillipa has gone to great lengths to make it known she's truly in charge...you want to implicate her in the attack on CTV."

Thetis slowly clapped her hands. "Bravo, Hideo," she said. "Given the fact that Utopia equipment was found and the attack on Flynn was not sanctioned by us, it's obvious that someone wanted to implicate us. That brings us to two possible conclusions; one being the possibility that Flynn set this up, but I doubt he has the gall to do something like that."

Ozaki shook his head. "No," he said in agreement, "this doesn't seem to be his style and I doubt he would put those he cares about in that kind of danger."

"Agreed, which brings me to possibility number two, Phillipa arranged it."

"It could have been a third party," Ozaki said, though he knew it was unlikely, "but doubtful. But are you certain this is the way to go."

"Truthfully, no," Thetis admitted. "As it stands, Flynn views us as the enemy and I have no doubt he will come gunning for us. The only thing we can do is give him another target to shoot at. Either way, we're going to get hurt, it's just a matter of making sure Phillipa takes the brunt of it."

"And when the time comes, you intend to implicate Phillipa and her blatant power grab will make it hard for her to deny she was being set up." Ozaki nodded in approval and allowed himself a tiny smile. "Very nice...but what about the situation with Buddy Pine?"

Thetis chuckled again, leaning back in the chair behind her desk. "That's the beauty of it, Hideo, we can dump that on her as well...all we have to do is make sure she doesn't live long enough to deny it."

"And what about Director Laragione? Surely he will cause some trouble after Lavielle is dealt with."

The cold gleam returned to Thetis' eyes. "That's the sad thing about a war, Hideo," she said, smiling coldly at her colleague, "things get so chaotic, so crazy...some people get caught in the crossfire. But at the very least, we should make sure he goes out heroically."


	23. Ripple Effect II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does. Don't own the Incredibles, Pixar does (and I'm sure Brad Bird would order me burned at the stake for what I've done to his creation). Don't own Champions...that's owned by Hero Games. Lloyd Robertson, yes, is a real person...but I don't think he'll mind me portraying him this way since he does have a sense of humor in real life...so please don't kill me, Lloyd!

Author's Notes: For those of you who don't know who The Golden Avenger is, he's a character from the the Champions RPG. I'm going with a revamped version of the original (which is basically a sociopath fusion of Captain America and Nick Fury). If you've read Dicker Files...you knew this character was going to show up. Keep in mind, this is the Golden Avenger based on the original Champions concept, not the "dumbed down" sixth edition or the computer game.

Anyway...not much going on here...this is part two of "Ripple Effect" that takes place right after Violet's shooting. The conclusion to this arc will be up soon.

As always, thanks to the usual suspects...you guys all know who you are...and yes, that includes that person way over in Russia. Thanks for sticking around.

* * *

"_It has been confirmed that Violet Parr, Vice President of the new tech start-up company, Syndrome Software and Technologies, was shot last night in what can only be called an assassination attempt on SST CEO David Flynn. Authorities have managed to apprehend the would-be assassin, but have yet to release their identity. Violet Parr has been taken to Metroville General Hospital where she is currently listed in critical condition. We have been unable to get comments from SST personnel in regards to the attack, but we have been informed that David Flynn would be holding a press conference soon..."_

_-KMET News, Channel 9, Metroville_

* * *

_**CTV Studios**_

_**Ottawa, Ontario**_

Gregory Paladino was going over post-production of video footage for their W-5 special in one of facility's production rooms, editing various cuts for time constraints. He really hated cutting some parts out because they had so much and he almost felt guilty for having to do so. However, the key word was 'almost'. After having seen what they had shot down in Mexico City, Lloyd Robertson ordered them to cut what they could of the selected footage what they wanted to use for the W-5 broadcast to fit the time block. Then Lloyd surprised everyone when he requested that they keep the "cut-off" material to use in regular news broadcasts over the next few days.

The sound of footsteps entering the room made Greg look up from his computer to find Ted Richards standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face. "Ted," he said, "is something wrong?"

The CTV reporter stared blankly at his cameraman and best friend for a moment before shaking his head. "No," he said, pulling up a chair to sit across from Greg, "but you might want to sit down."

"Um, I AM sitting down," Greg said. "What's wrong? Did they pull our program?"

That brought Ted back to his senses. "What? Oh…hell no! No…that's not it at all…it's just…"

"Yes," Greg said, trying to get his friend to get to the point. His concern faded a little because Ted didn't seem pissed which meant he wasn't 'reigned in', "anytime you feel like getting to the point here…"

"I just got out of a meeting with Lloyd," Ted said.

"Okay…so you always have a meeting with Lloyd, he meets with all the reporters so they can pitch their stories."

"No…no…not that kind of bullpen meeting." Ted was shaking his head, his expression still showing signs of mild shock. "I got out of A meeting with Lloyd…just him and me."

Understanding dawned on Greg, because Lloyd didn't just call a rank and file reporter directly to his office for a private meeting unless it was very important. "Oh…you still have a job, don't you?"

"Oh yeah, we still have jobs. He liked our stuff…but…"

"But what? What did he say?"

"He said that our talents are being wasted away here," Ted said, shoulders slumped in defeat, head bowed slightly. Then, a few seconds later, his head snapped up and his stunned expression revealed a big grin. "He wants to send us to New York to do a complete series on Utopia and their UN connection."

This time, Greg was taken aback by shock. "No…way!"

"Way," said a new baritone voice that had both men suddenly jump in surprise.

"Lloyd…er…Mr. Robertson…" Greg stammered. "Um…what are you doing here?"

"It's Lloyd," said the older man as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, an amused look on his face, "and, as for me being here, I do believe, as News Director, I'm allowed to be wherever I damn well please."

"Well, yeah, there is that," Greg admitted, trying to keep his voice even, despite the fact he was talking to someone who could easily destroy his career with a casual snap of the fingers. _Play it cool…just play it cool and, whatever you do, do not sound like you're sucking up, he hates that._

"So," he said, after taking a moment to regain composure, "what can I do for you, sir?"

_ARRRRRRRRGH! You idiot! You sound like you're sucking up! Why don't you buy yourself some Vaseline and kneepads to finish the job?_

To his surprise, Robertson chuckled and looked over at Ted. "You were right, Ted, cool under fire and no problems facing death, but scared to death of talking to a brittle old man."

By now, both men were laughing and Greg shook his head, glaring at Ted. "Very funny, Ted; give me a heart attack, why don't you."

"Sorry, young man, but you're not allowed to have your first heart attack for another twenty years," Lloyd said, "it's in your contract."

"Seriously?"

"No…but I'm Lloyd Robertson, so therefore I decree it to be so." Then Robertson shook his head and laughed again. "But seriously, Greg, I do need to talk to you. I haven't told Ted this because I felt both of you, having worked together so long, should hear it at the same time. After you do this series in New York, I'm breaking the team up." He held a hand up to quell the protests coming from the two men. "Just hear me out first. Greg, you are one of the best cameramen and techs out there I have here on staff, but I also know you're willing to fill in wherever you're needed. You've even done several 'embedded' reports on your own when the situation called for it. So I've decided, being the CTV news director, chief, and all powerful evil overlord that I am, to give you your own assignment after you two finish your series." The older man then turned to Ted. "As for you, Richards…after you return from New York, I want you to start getting used to sitting behind a desk, because you're going to start manning the anchor spot when we need you to fill in starting in January."

"Whoa…wait…hold on," stammered Ted. "You're promoting me? You can't do that!"

Robertson glared at the younger reporter, a stern look on his face. "Yes, I can," he said, his voice almost a growl, "because I am Lloyd Robertson." Then he pretended to laugh maniacally for a moment before returning to normal. "But seriously, Ted," he said, "we have a solid reputation here at CTV for being straight forward when reporting the news and for our professionalism when we do it, something that seems to be fading these days. For a member of the 'newer generation', you and Paladino both have that ethic which many of your contemporaries lack."

"Okay, you got a point," Ted admitted. "But you realize that we're not popular with Project Utopia, right? Promoting us like this will make you a target."

"Maybe it will," Robertson replied with a shrug. "But in case you haven't noticed, I've been around for awhile and I can take the hits. The fact that we provide evidence to back our stories up makes a very good shield."

"They've been trying to lean on you, haven't they?" Greg asked. "They didn't want you to broadcast our footage."

"No, they didn't and they also wanted me to fire you both."

"Seriously?" Ted shook his head, chuckling. "Damn, we really must have pissed them off. So what was it…threats or bribery?"

"Well," Robertson said, looking around the room with a wistful expression, "something was mentioned about funding and renovation…but I kind of like things the way they are."

Greg was about to make a smart-ass comment, but stopped when another studio tech burst into the room. "Guys, this just came in…someone tried to take a shot at David Flynn!"

Within moments, Greg and Ted were running after Lloyd down a hallway that led to the newsroom. For a moment, Greg was distracted by the fact that, despite pushing 80, Lloyd Robertson could run fast for an old man. Then he turned his attention to focus on the various monitors displaying streaming footage from their network along with others. Mark Johal was on the screen for CTV and, despite being an entertainment reporter, was doing a decent job covering what had happened as Lloyd, having just gotten back on the air with a special "newsbreak" asked him for details.

Greg's eyes widened in horror as he heard Johal's account that a sniper had tried to take down David Flynn, but instead succeeded in shooting Violet Parr, Flynn's Vice-President.

_Oh god…Brian, what have you done?_

* * *

"_What was meant to be a Halloween party and official public unveiling of a new product turned into tragedy this evening when a would-be assassin tried to kill SST CEO David Flynn. Though there were no fatalities, it is reported that SST Vice President Violet Parr is in critical condition. Authorities have the shooter in custody, but have yet to reveal his motivations or who might have been behind this attempt..."_

_-Fox News_

"_I'm tellin' you, people! If you think this wasn't a Utopia sanctioned action to take Flynn down, then you are clearly drinking too much of the damn pro-Utopia Cool-Aid. Ten minutes after the attempted shooting, someone hit Utopia-backed companies and knocked down their firewalls for two minutes. That's right, for two minutes, the servers for QuanTech Armaments, Novation Games, and Irridium Electronics were stripped down to their bare asses, opened to whatever digital sodomy we could subject them to. By the way...if anyone's interested...I got an interesting batch of e-mails you might all be interested in reading..."_

_-Anonymous Poster, H-Cove_

* * *

_**Metroville General Hospital**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Bridgette Saunders wasn't even sure why she was even there at the hospital, sitting in a waiting room along with David Flynn and several other SST employees. After Violet Parr was taken away by the paramedics, David Flynn and his "entourage" (which is what Bridgette tagged Flynn's core group of followers), immediately followed her to the hospital. Somehow, she ended up accompanying Zoe, Shiro, and others to the hospital, catching a ride in Zoe's convertible. When Bridgette approached the building, she was surprised to see her father outside the entrance talking an older man wearing a dark suit that screamed "government spook" and a middle-aged man whose exaggerated muscular build made it clear that he was obviously a nova. Her father looked up as she approached with Flynn's crew, but only nodded at her and said "We need to talk" before resuming his conversation with the old man.

Bridgette was barely aware of the looks from various bystanders as the crew, with very visible novas in the group, made their way through the hospital.

So here she was, sitting in a waiting room with about a dozen employees from SST. She knew a few of them, but not the others. She noted that David Flynn was there off in a corner, talking to a Native American man with long hair tied back in a pony-tail. She couldn't make out what was being said, but the conversation snippets she heard from the other SST members got her attention

"Whoever did this is gonna' pay."

"Wonder what David and Null are talking about."

"Knowing those two, David probably wants to murder someone."

"That's jumping to conclusions, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but you know how David gets when one of his own is threatened."

Bridgette tuned out most of the conversation, instead focusing on Flynn. She could tell from his facial expression that he was concerned about Violet and that he actually cared. But it was the anger and murderous rage she could see in his eyes that made Bridgette shudder for a moment when he looked at her briefly before looking back to Null.

_He's obviously hurt and he does care for her. But how is this possible? This is not the arrogant punk we see bad-mouthing Utopia._

"I know we didn't get along very well," Zoe Kilmarten said, breaking Bridgette's train of thought, "but Violet didn't deserve this."

"That's putting it mildly, Zoe," Shiro replied, "I was under the impression you hated each other."

"Nah…dislike, yeah, but not enough to wish this on her, and she's nothing like her brother."

Murmured agreements and nods had Bridgette wondering what exactly had been going on and what was she inadvertently been dragged into. She didn't know Violet Parr, hadn't even met her until the day before, but it was apparent that there was an obvious bond in this group that went beyond just being co-workers.

_Almost as if they were a family of their own…interesting._

"Okay, everyone," Flynn suddenly said, snapping Bridgette out of her thoughts as he walked over to where everyone is sitting. "I just got word they're out of surgery; from what I've gathered, Vi is stable but still critical." There were some sighs of relief and a couple muttered prayers of thanks. "But she's not out of- "

He never finished his sentence as a fist slammed into the side of his face, causing almost everyone to jump in surprise, including Bridgette. However, the shock wasn't so much Flynn getting hit, but the fact that the fist that hit him was attached to an arm that was stretched about thirty feet before retracting back into it's owner, a middle-aged woman with brown hair approaching them, flanked by a blond haired teen in a High School jacket and another blond haired kid who appeared to be nine or ten.

"How dare you!" the woman screamed as she stalked towards David who was getting up off the ground.

"Okay," Flynn said as he got back to his feet. "That was your free shot because I deserve it." The words may have been flippant, but Bridgette could sense the cold threat behind them.

The blond haired teen seemed to blur out of existence for an instant before reappearing in front of Flynn to grab him from by the front of his shirt and shove him against the wall. "You shouldn't be here, asshole," the blond snarled.

Before Bridgette could blink, the Native American man called Null seemed to mist into existence behind the blond teen, a knife in his hand with the blade against the teen's throat. "Let. Him. Go."

The teen's eyes widened in fear for a moment before he released his hold on Flynn and stepped away. "You have some balls to come here, I'll give you that."

"Good to see you too, Dash," Flynn snapped while Null misted a few feet away and placed his knife back in his boot sheathe.

"You have no business here," the woman said, stepping up to Flynn who actually seemed to flinch a little.

"Given the fact that your daughter is an employee and a good friend of mine, Mrs. Parr, I have every reason to be here."

"Oh, don't you even think of going there," the woman now identified as Mrs. Parr snapped. "You may not be your father, but don't think for a moment that you were a friend.

"Um…mom?" This came from the nine year old blond haired boy. "I thought you said we were here to see Violet, not beat the crap out of some guy. It's not like he shot her, right?"

"He might as well have, Jack," the woman snapped. Her comment made everyone in the SST crew get up out of their seats; some of them looked like they were getting ready for a fight.

"Whoa," Flynn said, holding up his hand and waving it at his employees. "Stand down, everyone; we're not starting a fight here."

"That's pretty damn noble of you," Mrs, Parr snarled, her rage obviously fueling her. "Then again, you were right about one thing. You aren't your father because you've certainly done more damage to this family than he ever did."

David Flynn's head snapped back to look at her and Bridgette saw the cold expression form on his face as he stared at the woman with cold dead eyes. "What did you just say?" Even the way he spoke, softly and coldly, made it clear that Mrs. Parr had clearly touched a nerve.

"You heard me," Mrs. Parr said, not backing down. "Your careless actions led to this…or were they careless? For all I know, you could have planned-"

"Don't even think about it," Flynn snapped, cutting her off, cold rage in his voice as he stepped forward, a shimmering blue force-field around him forcing the woman to step back. "I approached you as a gesture of good faith, I had hoped we could bury the past, and yet you just want to be close minded and assume that I am just like my father."

Though it was obvious that Mrs. Parr was taken aback from Flynn's action, she managed to sneer at him. "Given what you're doing this very moment, David PINE Flynn," she said, gesturing at the metal band on the man's forearm, "you're doing a damn good job of following in his footsteps."

Gasps and shouts of anger from the SST employees could be heard and a couple of them, Zoe and Shiro, started towards Mrs. Parr, but a wall of blue energy crackled to life in front of them.

"No," Flynn said to his friends, "we're not fighting here, not now." He then turned back to face Mrs. Parr, tapping a button on the metal bracer he wore, deactivating his force-field as he stepped forward stopping just over a foot away from her. "Mrs. Parr, I really don't give a damn what you think of me at the moment. You want to wage a war with me, fine…just not here and now. Unlike you, I'm more interested in finding out who almost murdered your daughter and making them pay."

"I'm looking at him," Violet's mother fired back.

"You know what, the hell with this," Flynn said, shaking his head as he turned and began to walk away from her, "do me a favor and try to grow up a little before we talk next time, okay?"

"You bastard!" Mrs. Parr's arm started to extend as she prepared to hit Flynn again.

"Helen, wait!" Everyone stopped and turned in the direction of the elevator. Bridgette saw the large muscular man coming out of the elevator along with her father and the old man. "David wasn't behind this."

"Bob, our daughter is in critical condition because of him. He may as well have pulled the trigger-" Helen Parr's accusation was cut off as a pink-haired blur slapped her across the face, sending her stumbling backwards a few feet.

"Fuck you!" Zoe screamed. "David went out of his way to play nice with you, despite my warnings about your family. My mom and I may not agree on things, but I have to admit she was right when she referred to you as a close-minded and overly self-righteous bitch with a low opinion of the world around her. I can see where Dash gets it from."

"Enough!" The gravelly voice had everyone turn their attention to the old man in black government suit. His expression softened a little as he spoke again. "Helen, Flynn was the target."

For a moment, Helen Parr was speechless. Having known the man for several years, she knew Richard Dicker was not one to lie. However, the revelation that Flynn was the intended target didn't kill her rage. Instead, it seemed to feed it as she turned to look back at the young man who she viewed as being the source of the recent trouble for her family. "You," she hissed angrily, "you're the reason she was shot. You angered Utopia, they came after you, and shot my baby." She was about to lunge at Flynn again, but she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder.

"Helen," it was the way her husband softly spoke her name that made Helen turn to look at him. "The shooter was someone we knew...it was Brian Paladino."

Helen's eyes widened in shock at the revelation that someone who was a family friend was behind the shooting. The shock killed her rage and she fell into her husband's arms, sobbing.

Bridgette watched as the crying woman was escorted out of the room by her husband. The blond haired teen called Dash followed after them a few seconds later, but stopped to turn and look in David Flynn's direction.

"Don't think this is over, Flynn," Dash Parr sneered. "We're going to settle this eventually."

Flynn's reaction was a cold smirk. "Dash," he said, "I told you before that you are beneath my notice, do us both a favor and stay that way." There was something in Flynn's voice that made the other young man flinch slightly. It was obvious to Bridgette that Dash Parr was frightened of Flynn, but was doing his best to pretend that he wasn't intimidated.

"Some day, Flynn, you won't have your friends around to protect you." With that final comment, Dash turned and left the room, ignoring the multiple one-fingered salutes and death glares he got from the SST crowd.

For a few seconds, Flynn stood there, closing his eyes for a moment before looking over his shoulder. "Crystal," he finally said, "I need you to come with me."

The golden-haired woman that Bridgette had dismissed as a glorified secretary at SST nodded, getting up out of her chair and grabbing her leather jacket.

"Null," Flynn continued, "you're running the show until I get back. Zoe, stay here." He then walked over to where Bridgette's father was standing. "I'm sorry to run off like this, but I think you can guess why I called you. According to the docs in there, the projectile severed her spine and caused multiple organ damage. I'm not sure, but they might need your help."

"You do realize," Saunders said, "that it is not your decision or mine to make. In fact, I'm not sure if what you suggested might even be wise."

"Yeah, I know," Flynn replied, a mixture of desperation and resignation briefly flashing across his face before it resolved into an expression of grim acceptance, "but I'm just looking for options and they need to know what's available."

To Bridgette's surprise, her father nodded, momentarily resting a hand on Flynn's shoulder. "I'll do what I can," he said before looking over at his daughter and adding, "what we all can."

Bridgette wasn't sure her father meant exactly, but she had a chill running down her spine as she thought about the situation what David meant by 'looking for options'.

"I want to talk to him," Flynn said to the old man in the government spook suit.

"And what makes you think I'll allow that, kid?"

"Dicker, you know I'm in no mood for games. That bastard put one of mine in the hospital trying to get to me and I know you have him in custody at one of your facilities here in town."

"And what are you going to do," the man called Dicker didn't seem the least bit fazed by Flynn's anger, "kill him while he's in custody?"

"I want answers, Director Dicker. According to my files on the Paladinos, Brian and his sister were last seen in Brazil four months ago and communication and electronic activity indicated they were still down there."

"They ghosted us, Flynn. Even you aren't capable of tracking someone if they manage to slip off the grid."

"Yeah," Flynn snapped, "they ghosted us and the shooter was found with high-grade Utopia 'peace-keeping' equipment."

"We don't know that they were behind it, kid. He and his siblings could have been operating alone. For all we know, they could have been playing you ever since you met his brother in Mexico a few weeks ago."

Flynn shook his head. "No," he said, "something like this had to planned before..." Then his eyes widened a little as if he remembered something. "Son...of...a...bitch...he tried to warn me."

* * *

"_Despite the claims made by local authorities and officials from the NSA, I can assure you that Project Utopia was, in no way, involved in this tragic incident and will cooperate fully with any investigation they care to conduct. We will address additional questions tomorrow at the press conference. Thank you for your time."_

_-Justin Laragione, Director, Project Utopia, in a public statement from New York._

* * *

_**Primary Response and Interdiction Military Unified Service (P.R.I.M.U.S) Headquarters**_

_**Washington, DC**_

Robert Washington Kaufman, Director of PRIMUS, and also known as the American hero called "The Golden Avenger", stood there in the middle of his office, watching the news footage covering the attempted assassination of David Flynn. Despite the situation, his reaction was mixed. While he regarded novas as a danger, he couldn't help appreciating the fact that David Flynn seemed to be taking it upon himself to face off against Project Utopia and its attempt to destroy American sovereignty. However, he was no fool, he knew David Flynn didn't do what he did out of patriotism or love of country.

_However, despite being a nova, he's done a lot to give Utopia a black eye. According to our intel, he's also developing all sorts of advanced tech. Perhaps, if we handle him right, we might be able to convince him to ally himself with us...for now._

On the other hand, if Flynn had been killed, it would have removed an enemy. With Flynn dead, Kaufman could have ordered SST's assets seized in the "interest of national security" or some other reason before Utopia could move in.

_But the assassin blew it, Flynn still lives, and, if our intelligence is accurate, the shooter was found with Utopia weaponry._

Ultimately, Kaufman decided that Flynn surviving the attack was a good thing.

_The boy is angry now and will focus his anger on Utopia._

It was a simple plan actually, letting the two forces go at it and finishing off the survivor; not very original, but an effective one. However, there was still the possibility that the survivor of the conflict wouldn't be sufficiently weakened enough and could still put up a fight.

_We'll just have to make sure the fight between them lasts awhile and hurts them deeply enough._

He then pointed the remote at the screen and brought up an intelligence report on the Church of Michael Archangel and the threat to the nation's security. While he, along with most members of the United States Government, did consider the group a terrorist organization he did see them as a useful tool against the nova threat against the world. He made sure PRIMUS resources weren't focused on targeting that group, pretty much turning a blind eye.

_However, this Gabriel, whoever he is, could be trouble. We have no clue who he is and my informant in their leadership hasn't been able to get much else on the man._

The reports he had gotten from his agent inside the Church of Michael had been sporadic at best, but it was clear that this mysterious "Gabriel" had access to advanced weaponry and, if the story about him being responsible for Mexico City was true, he also posed a potential threat. But if the man truly hated novas as he had claimed, then perhaps he would prove a useful ally.

"_The enemy of my enemy is my friend", or so the saying goes. Except this guy comes out of nowhere and almost singlehandedly turns a bunch of militant weekend warriors into a serious threat? What's your game, Gabriel? What are you up to? And can I use it after I have Torano's people kill you?_

He pushed the button on the remote and the screen switched back to live feed, this time coming from N!Channel where they were discussing the upcoming press conference.

_Utopia's been doing a lot of scrambling in the last few hours. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think they might actually be innocent of the attack on Flynn._

Then the weirdest thought hit him; what if they truly were innocent?

_If they weren't behind it, then who was?_

After pondering it for a few moments, he shook his head and focused attention back on the news footage.

_It still doesn't change anything. We'll let Flynn and Utopia rip each other to shreds, if the Church of Michael gets involved, that will work as well. Then we'll mop up the survivors and focus on Divis Mal and the Teragen afterwards. Eventually...the world will be safe for our kind once again._


	24. Ripple Effect III

Disclaimer: Don't own Incredibles, they belong to Mr. Bird and Pixar/Disney. Aberrant owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: Okay...short chapter this time around. I've been kicking around this batch of scenes in my head for awhile, but I'm not too sure if I like how it turned out. Just a warning...though, we're going to see a side of David that you don't usually see, but if you've read the whole series, you know he has a dark side. However, as I said, I'm not sure if I'm happy with how this chapter turned out...then again...it's late, I'm tired...I wanna' go sleep now.

As usual, thanks to everybody and, like always, comments, criticisms, and the occasional threat is welcomed.

* * *

**_Jordan McDevitt: "Okay, unless you were on another planet or zoning out to the latest pro-Utopia BS being aired on about ninety percent of the various networks, I'm sure you heard about the murder attempt on David Flynn. And since we're on earlier than the other talk shows, let's go ahead and open up the lines. What do you think, people? Was Utopia behind the attack? Somebody else? Let's go to our first caller...Neal from Dallas, you're on the air with Jordan McDevitt."_**

**_Caller: "You know, Jor, I know all the conspiracy nuts are mostly screaming that either Flynn set this up or Utopia was behind it."_**

**_JM: "C'mon, Neal, do you really think he'd pay someone to take out his own VP. Hell, the company isn't that old and I don't see him paying some sniper to kill some hot babe. Although...if he were a US senator, I could see that happening."_**

**_(Both men laugh)_**

**_Caller: "True on that, Jor. But seriously, let's throw something else out there. Sure, Utopia is Flynn's main enemy and it's true that there's no love lost between Utopia and SST, but keep in mind, they're not the only one who has reason to hate Flynn. Apple, Microsoft, and Sony aren't happy and, if this new system SST is putting out is the real deal, you know they'll all take major hits."_**

**_JM: "Let me get this straight, Neal, you think one of those aforementioned parties might have been responsible for the attempted hit?"_**

**_Caller: "Who said it was just one of them, Jor? What if they didn't want someone coming in to destroy their carefully constructed status quo?"_**

**_JM: "So you're saying there's a possibility they might have all been in on it?"_**

**_Caller: "Why not? Stranger crap has happened?"_**

**_JM: "True enough, Neal, true enough. Thanks for your call...so, let's go to Billy from Walnut Creek, California. Billy, you're on the air."_**

**_Caller #2: "Hey Jor, I think this is a cheap publicity stunt by David Flynn gone wrong and-"_**

**_JM: "Whoa there, Billy, you actually believe Flynn hired a sniper for a publicity stunt?"_**

**_Caller #2: "Yeah, it's obvious. He wanted to do something to make Utopia look bad and build up his image as the so called 'rebel against the oppressive regime' that he knows will sell well."_**

**_JM: "Wow...sounds to me like you're overdosing on the Utopia Kool-Aid, kid. Do me a favor and call me back when you can come up with a talking point of your very own..."_**

_-Transcript from the Jordan McDevitt show, 1 November 2006_

* * *

**_1 November 2006_**

**_NSA Facility_**

**_Metroville, California_**

**_Interrogation Room 2_**

**_0100 hrs_**

Brian sat there behind the small table in the otherwise unfurnished room. Though his hands were manacled together, he was able to rest them on the table in front of him. His feet were also shackled, but the NSA agents hadn't locked them down to his chair. They probably figured since he was doped up on 'mox, shutting down his powers, he wasn't much of a threat.

_I'm not a threat for now, _he thought as he turned to coldly stare at the one-way glass mirror/window on the left wall. _I wonder what the NSA agents are thinking in there...probably trying to figure out under whose jurisdiction I fall under, I suppose._

He allowed himself a tiny smile because he knew that once his equipment was discovered, Utopia would probably be fighting the NSA for custody. Then his smile faded as he replayed the shooting through his head. He should not have missed...he had David Flynn lined up in his sights and he pulled the trigger.

_That little fucker should be dead...how the hell did I hit Violet instead?_

He had been replaying that scenario through his head when he woke up in NSA custody. To be honest, he was surprised to be in NSA custody. When Flynn's people took him down, he figured he'd be a dead man, or at least being held in Flynn's building somewhere. He didn't expect to waking up in NSA custody.

_Not that it matters, once I get out of here, I'll reconnect with Lydia and then we can kill the fucker._

The sound of the door to the room opening made him look up to see an old man in a suit enter the room.

"Director Dicker," he said, keeping his voice calm and almost friendly, "how nice of you to join me."

The old man looked at him for a few seconds before shaking his head. "I really wish you weren't here, kid," he finally said. He didn't take a seat at the table, but simply stood there. "You and your sister had a good life, Brian."

"Bullshit, old man," Brian hissed. "We lived quietly and you assured us that the man responsible for our father's death was dealt with."

"He was," Dicker replied, "unless one can survive being sucked into a jet turbine and the subsequent explosion."

"And yet you let his little bastard walk around free, cashing in on his father's empire and blood money."

"Spare me the self-righteous rhetoric, Brian," Dicker countered, "this was about revenge, pure and simple, on someone who had nothing to do with what happened to your family."

"Do you really think that little piece of shit is innocent?"

"I would hardly call David Flynn innocent," Dicker admitted, "but he had nothing to do with your father's murder and, to be honest, he could have cared less about you until you put a bullet into one of his friends."

"I was aiming for him," Brian said as the door to the interrogation room opened.

"Yeah? Well, your aim sucks," David Flynn said as he and a young woman with blond hair entered the room. The woman took a seat at one side of the table while David stood next to Dicker. "I appreciate this, Director Dicker."

The NSA director glared at David for a moment before glancing over at Brian. "You have ten minutes, boy," he said, "and you remember our arrangement. You do NOTHING to him, is that understood?"

David nodded and waited until Dicker left the room. Then he glared at Brian. "So, Paladino," he said, calmly sitting into a seat at the other end of the table so he could face Brian, "here we are."

* * *

Dicker entered the observation room where Bob Parr as, observing the interrogation from the other side of the one-way glass. "Well," he said, "this could get interesting."

"Are you sure that's wise, Rick?" Bob asked. "Letting Flynn question the man who tried to kill him?"

"My crew got nothing out of the kid, Bob. He's a cold one and pretty much gave us the silent treatment. Letting Flynn in there should rattle his cage a little." Then Dicker's voice softened a little. "I couldn't let you in there, Bob, and you know it. Hell, you shouldn't even be here."

"I know," Bob said, nodding in agreement, "but I want answers. I knew this kid, Rick, him and his sister. Simon and his family would come over for dinners on Sundays after church. Our children were friends."

"People change, Bob, but not always for the better." Dicker looked back into the interrogation room. "And to be honest with you, I'm not sure letting Flynn in there was the best option either, given his state of mind."

That comment got Bob's attention. "What do you mean?" he asked, turning to look at Dicker. "He seems to be keeping a level head in this."

"Someday, Bob, I should have you read Flynn's psych profile," Dicker replied, momentarily glancing at Bob. "In some ways, he's like his father, but that's not the worst of it. David Flynn has this sort of 'possessive' mentality, but not in the way you'd think. He establishes relationships with people he works with, befriends them. We're not sure what the trigger is on that or what caused it, but he tends to imprint on those people and gets a little possessive of them."

"Possessive," Bob repeated, "not sure I like the sound of that."

"Not like that," Dicker assured him, "he just tends to take things personally when people he cares about are hurt and threatened and goes overboard."

"Like when that Utopia team came for the Kilmarten girl," Bob said, realizing what Dicker was talking about.

"Yep," Dicker said, nodding, but not taking his attention from the interrogation room. "When Brandi Miller threatened to do an hit piece of journalism targeting his friends, David Flynn was the one who took her down, along with other members of Project Utopia who were involved in that child prostitution ring." He then turned to face Bob again. "And now, he's in the room with the man who almost murdered someone he cares about. What scares me more, Bob, is that, unlike you, Flynn won't do anything to physically harm Paladino. He's capable of doing far worse."

* * *

Brian silently glared at David Flynn, wishing that he wasn't doped up on 'mox so he could send a force beam through the other man's chest. And as he could feel the slight rush he always felt before the energy blasts shot from his eyes, he thought that maybe it would work…until a wave of nausea hit him, breaking his concentration. A couple seconds later, he was fighting the urge to vomit as the chemical inhibitors in the 'mox rushed through his brain, making him feel like he was on a bad roller-coaster ride after eating a bunch of spicy food.

"Let me guess," Flynn said, tilting his head at a slight angle and smirking at Brian, "you just tried to shoot a force beam at me, didn't you?" And yet, even as he spoke, there was no humor in his voice and Brian could see coldness in Flynn's eyes that actually made him flinch.

"What do you want?" Brian asked, and then he gestured with his head at the blond woman sitting off to the side. "And what is she doing here?"

"What I want," Flynn replied as if he were answering a philosophical question, "that's a good question. Normally, I'd answer with some smart-ass comment or something, but right now I want very much to go back in time the last few hours and prevent what happened, but I can't do that." He then slowly backed his chair from the table and stood up. "And what I want right now, this very moment, is to beat you to a bloody pulp with a crowbar until you're a living vegetable drooling all over the place and on life support, but, sadly, I can't do that either because I promised the Director of the NSA that I wouldn't do that. As for why Crystal is here…you could say she serves a dual purpose. She's a telepath and can tell me if you're lying to me; she's also serving as my conscience since Violet's not here to keep me in line."

Brian said nothing, but he felt as if someone stabbed him in the gut when Violet's name was brought up.

"Oh yeah," Flynn said, obviously catching the slight hesitation on Brian's part. "You remember Violet…dark haired, funny, likable goth-girl, kind of hot. Someone you grew up with. Nice girl had a great life ahead of her…until you severed her spine, punctured a lung, and put her on life support."

Brian didn't answer, but continued to glare at Flynn who calmly began to walk around the table while he kept talking. "Oh, I see you do remember her? So, what happened, Brian? Decided to get at me by taking her out? Is that it?" He stopped next to Brian and leaned down slightly so he could be eye-level. "Damn, Brian, that's cold…killing a friend to get to someone you consider an enemy."

"Fuck you."

The other man blinked for a moment at Brian's response and then shook his head, a soft and heartless chuckle briefly echoing through the room. "Wow, Brian, pretty damn eloquent. Here I was expecting some heavily laden angst-filled diatribe of bitter emotional monologue and all I get is a 'Fuck you'. Y'know, why couldn't you be like your brother? At least Greg was open-minded enough to give me a chance. Then again, you really haven't been talking to him lately, have you? It's been what…four months since you last chatted? I think he tried to warn me about you. It took me awhile to track through cell-phone records, but I managed to pull it off after thirty minutes. Looks to me like you had one long final conversation and then…nothing. What happened? Did he tell you he didn't want any part of it?"

"He's a fucking coward," Brian snarled.

"Really," Flynn said as he resumed walking around the table. "It wasn't a coward I talked to down in Mexico City. It wasn't a coward who helped dig through the rubble to find survivors. And I sure as hell didn't think it was cowardly of him to actually face up to me when we talked about your father. It's too bad he's happy being a cameraman/reporter…he'd have been one hell of hero, worthy of his father's legacy. And what does that say about you?"

That final comment did it and, before Brian realized it, he had stood up and lunged at Flynn, swinging his manacled hands together in a double-axe handle strike. However, the young man quickly stepped aside, grabbing Brian by an arm and a shoulder and, using Brian's own momentum, slammed him face first into the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Flynn said as he stepped back, reaching down to straighten out his jacket while Brian dropped to the floor, "did I hit a nerve? I did? Good."

"You sick fuck," Brian growled as he stumbled back to his feet. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Do you really think I was aiming at Vi? You were the damn target! I had you in my sights when I pulled the trigger! You were supposed to have a hole in your head and be lying down on the ground in a pool of your own blood."

"Then you're a lousy shot," David snapped back.

"I never fucking miss, Flynn."

"David, wait," this was from Crystal, "he's telling the truth."

"Wait…what?"

"I can see it in his mind. He had you lined up, he had the shot centered up perfectly…but," Crystal then looked over at Brian, "you weren't alone up there on the building, were you?"

"What do you mean," Brian said, confusion at the woman's question momentarily breaking through his rage, "there was no one else there, just me."

The blond telepath shook her head. "No," she said, "you thought you were alone. You thought you had the shot."

"Crystal, what are you saying?"

"He was going to kill you, David, but…I don't know…it's hard to explain. The images in his head...something doesn't seem right." The telepath then looked at Brian. "The angle changed, didn't it? You drifted off your mark...when you paused to scratch your eye." Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh god, David...someone changed his perception."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian asked.

Flynn looked at him and smiled humorlessly. "It means you're a bigger tool than I took you for." He then looked at Crystal. "Okay, we're done here," he said as he walked over and started to open the door.

"Oh, so that's it?" Brian sneered as he got back into his chair. "You bring some blond bimbo to go through my head while you gloat? Shit, Flynn...you're almost as bad as your father."

Flynn had opened the door for Crystal to exit first and was about to follow her out when he heard the comment. He let the doorknob go and turned to reface Brian. "What did you just say?" he asked as the door closed.

"Uh...oh," Brian laughed, mimicking Flynn's tone from earlier, "did I hit a nerve? Good. Face it, Flynn, you can use all your father's blood money and do whatever it is you do to try and push some false image, but it doesn't change the fact that you're just a cold blooded monster like Buddy Pine."

For a moment, Flynn stood there and said nothing. He bowed his head slightly, and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath before looking back up. "Fine," he sighed, nodding at Brian. "You seem intent on comparing me to my father and wanting me to follow in his footsteps, I might as well oblige you." He walked up to the table, drummed his fingers on it for a couple seconds, and then gave Brian a curious look. "It suddenly occurs to me that you couldn't have pulled this off alone...and according to the files the NSA gave me, your sister tends to be wherever you are. I'm willing to bet that she helped you with this, am I right?"

"So what." Brian smirked at the man, enjoying the fact that he was able to get under Flynn's skin. "You won't be able to find her unless she wants to be found. You may have me, but you won't get her. And she will come after you."

Flynn's soft cruel chuckle echoed through the room again. "Oh, I hope so," he replied. "Because since you want me to act like my father, her coming after me will make it easier. Tell me...how much do you love your sister?"

"What kind of question is that? She's my sister."

"Yeah, she's your sister, and I'm sure you love her very much. Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I consider Violet Parr to be a close friend, she's almost like a sister to me in her own way and, right now, she's dying because of you." Suddenly, there was a malicious gleam in Flynn's eyes that actually sent a chill down Brian's spine and made him wonder if he had made a mistake in trying to piss off Flynn. "So, Brian, this is how it's going to play out. Violet Parr is in critical condition and we're not sure if she's going to make it. If she dies, I will devote all of my assets in tracking your sister down. There is no place on this fucking planet that she will be able to hide and when she is found, expect her to be slowly tortured to death and I will pay whoever is doing it to make it last as long as they can and to make sure they record every terrible long moment on high definition video which will then be piped down to whatever deep and dark little hole you ultimately end up in. And I will make sure that footage is played back on continuous loop for your viewing pleasure."

"YOU SICK BASTARD!" Brian screamed as he vaulted out of his chair across the table at Flynn, only to slam into a glowing blue wall of energy which then shoved back at him, sending him flying across the room and into the wall on the other side.

The door to the room suddenly opened and Dicker, flanked by two armed agents burst into the room. "That's enough, Flynn," Dicker ordered. "Stand down."

Flynn stood there staring at Brian. It was almost as if he didn't hear the old man...until he reached up and pushed a button on the metal bracer he wore, deactivating the blue energy field. "You're right, Director Dicker," he said as he backed away from Brian and turned to walk out of the room, "that is enough...for now."

Though he showed no outward emotion, Brian inwardly screamed in horror at what he had seen in Flynn's eyes. He had no doubt that Flynn would carry out his threat and that, if Violet did die, he had signed his own sister's death warrant. As the two agents picked him up off the floor and began to drag him back to his cell, Brian Paladino had done something he had never done before in his lifetime...he prayed.

* * *

Bob wasn't sure what to make of what he had just witnessed. He had seen David Pine Flynn channel his biological father in a way that scared him more than the actual Buddy Pine every could. He was horrified at what he heard Flynn threaten to do if Violet died...and yet part of him couldn't help feeling grateful that Flynn actually cared that much for his little girl. Then his rational side kicked back in and yelled at him for condoning Flynn's actions.

_Don't you get it? The boy just threated to have someone tortured to death if your daughter dies._

Bob knew it was wrong, but again, he felt a faint sense of satisfaction and a little relief that he was wrong about Flynn being a copy of his father.

_No, David's not a copy of his father...he's more dangerous._

He shoved those thoughts aside as he left the observation room and saw Dicker talking to David.

"What the hell was that, kid?"

"I'm sorry, Director," Flynn said, "he attacked and I defended myself."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." Dicker's voice was a dangerous growl. "I'm talking about your threat to have his sister slowly tortured to death."

"Oh, that," Flynn said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Director, it was just the heat of the moment. I'm tired, angry, and I'm probably saying things I shouldn't."

Dicker paused for a moment, studying the young man. "I hope that's the case, kid," he finally said.

"C'mon," David said, "I was bluffing and you know it. Do you really think I'd throw my life away like that?"

"Would you?" Dicker asked.

David sighed and shook his head again. "Look, it's late, I'm going to go get some sleep. I'll come back and take a look at the equipment you found later, okay?"

Bob watched as David and the blond woman who accompanied him walk away towards the main lobby of the building. Part of him felt relieved that Flynn claimed he was bluffing, while another part of him almost felt a sense of betrayal. But then the blond woman stopped for a moment, turned, and looked straight at him, a frightened look on her face. She didn't say it, her lips didn't even move, but there was no mistaking the sound of her voice in his head. It was just three words, but they were three words that left him in a cold sweat.

_**He wasn't bluffing.**_


	25. And now, a time out with Bomber

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. Incredibles owned by Disney.

Author's Notes: No, this is not the NEW chapter...this is kind of a...slight side-step in the drama. But have no fear, the story will continue, and this actually has some relevance. Besides, did you really think Bomber was going to be ignored? This chapter is also going be a sort of off-beat change from the usual flow of the story. I may or may not use the first person PoV again...it all depends on if this works out or not.

* * *

**Metroville Police Department**

**Isolation Block, Detention Center**

**1 November 2006  
**

**0500 Hrs.**

Hi there, my name is Jean-Paul Renard…also known as that annoying nova mercenary called "Bomber". Truth be told, I'm not nearly as annoying as the world-wide press portrays me. Yeah, Bomber, the guy in the funky green armor that IS NOT a rip-off from a certain movie series based on a certain comic book produced by a certain comic book company, is a jerk and lives to annoy his enemies and piss off his uptight and overbearing colleagues in the trade. But Jean-Paul Renard…he's a cool and likable guy who's basically an adrenaline junkie, enjoys life, and likes watching sunsets preferably while skydiving.

Now I realize that you're probably thinking, "wait, aren't Bomber and Jean the same guy?" and the answer would be yes, but Bomber is just a front and a persona. Of course there are people who know me personally, like my best friend Nicholas DeYorke aka the mercenary nova "Slapstick", who would say I'm full of shit and that there is no difference. However, though he's my best friend and is like a brother to me, Slapstick is insane and did try to kill me recently; but it wasn't personal and I probably would have done the same thing if our positions were reversed.

But right now, you're probably asking me, "Jean, what does any of that information have to do with you ending up as a guest of the Metroville PD?"

Well, let's recap for those of you who are slow on the uptake. I was here about a month ago or so, doing a simple job that consisted of me attempting to kidnap a nova just to test what she was capable of. Said job turned out to be a successful mission with a decent payday despite the annoying Firewing showing up. I took my pay, left, took some time off and decided to try out a new glider-pack I had designed by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. While I was there, I ran into this weird nova bad-ass in black armor who murdered the resident super-team (except for one member who barely survived) before deciding to take his anger out on me by dropping a good portion of the waterfront on top of me. I then woke up in a hospital under arrest and being monitored by a Utopia security team who made sure I was drugged to the gills and had me singing funky 80s tunes in English, Portuguese, and Punjabi (which I would have been curious to hear). While at the hospital, the Elite mercenary known as Totentanz and Nick both showed up trying to kill me and each other. I was mostly drugged but I somehow managed to survive only to have some asshole show up, help me escape, knock me out cold, implant some funky chip in my head that could seriously fuck me up, and then shipped my sorry ass back out here to Metroville in a coffin with a bunch of cash and directions to a small warehouse to call home. While trying to learn my surroundings, I stopped at a Starbucks, got a mocha, ended up in a robbery that was not a robbery, got shot in the back, left for dead, got up and disarmed one of the bombs the "robbers" put up that would have leveled the building, caught up with the robbery crew who had one of their crew tunnel into the city subway system, killed a few of there members, and ended up getting arrested by police as I was running out of the subway terminal.

And that is how I ended up in a jail cell at MPD wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. They had taken the bed out of my cell and left me a sleeping mat and a blanket. They didn't take the toilet and sink out though I'm sure they would have if they could. As it was, they put me in an "isolated" section because they were afraid I might cause a riot or something. I sort of built up a reputation over the last couple years I've been in the trade and I'm sure the higher-ups in the local PD didn't like the fact that they had a nova mercenary in their jail. Granted, I'm not a brick who can smash his way out of a cell, but I kind of got enough a rep that they stripped me of all my clothing and did a thorough search of my body, making sure they got whatever weapons, gadgets, or tools I might be hiding on my person. And, to give the MPD credit, they got most of them; I hadn't counted on that.

However, I also didn't expect the sudden change of attitude from most of the officers when it was announced that I had killed a particularly nasty nova called "Gator". Apparently, they recovered some of the video footage from the subway terminal and, the next thing I know, my jail-issue chow on a plastic tray was replaced by take-out, bottled mineral water and…a beer. I inquired from one of my captors why the sudden change of heart and that was when I found out that I had taken down a cop-killer.

Oh, I was still a prisoner and they didn't trust me with clothing they believed I could somehow use as a weapon (and you'd be surprised what a person can do with a single button), but I didn't experience the treatment I had normally received whenever I ended up in a jail. I was questioned a few times by various officers and one detective Daniel "Danny" O'Reilly who came across as a grizzled veteran though he looked he was only in his mid or late thirties. The detective did seem like one of those hardened assholes who wouldn't mind going "old school" on a perp and it was obvious he didn't like me; but he seemed to be going out of his way to stay professional instead of trying to beat the shit out of me. Then again, maybe it was how he moved differently from the other detectives I've encountered in the past; he seemed a little more guarded and aware of his surroundings than most…a definite sign that he probably was ex-military.

So, to say I was shocked when he came by with a bag of Thai food and a beer would have been an understatement. "You might as well enjoy it," he told me as he passed it to me through the bars, "because you probably won't be getting any more of this when you get transferred."

"I take it that your boss called up Utopia," I said before taking a sip of beer, "and this is the last meal of the damned?"

"Something like that," O'Reilly replied, standing outside the cell.

"And where do you stand on the issue?" I asked, sitting down on the floor and opening a carton of spicy chicken and rice.

"Honest opinion, Renard? I think you're an asshole and a menace, but that's my 'father' side answering that because I have two boys who think you're 'awesome' and watch all your video blogs." He glared at me for a moment and I was half-expecting to suddenly combust in flames. Then he gave me a predatory grin. "The cop in me thinks the same way…mostly, but you did something many of us wanted to do and that buys you a little bit of credit with brothers in blue." Then the grin faded to sadness and I saw a look in his eyes that I knew too well…loss. "The guy whose brother was killed by that bastard can't even begin to thank you."

"Your brother," I said, looking back up at him again, "he was the cop who Gator killed, wasn't he?"

O'Reilly said nothing to me for a few seconds. "Yeah," he finally said, breaking the silence, "the fucker bit his legs off and let him bleed out, recorded the damn thing on camera and e-mailed it to the Commissioner."

When he mentioned the Commissioner, I suddenly remembered something I had read in a newspaper a couple nights ago. "Police Commissioner Breaks Ranks, Supports Councilman for Mayoral Election" the headline had read. However, it was name of the Police Commissioner that caused everything to fall into place.

_**Police Commissioner James O'Reilly.**_

"Shit," I said when the realization hit me, "you're a family of cops, aren't you?"

"Actually, metaphorically speaking, all of us are family," O'Reilly replied with a grin. "It's just that my flesh and blood are almost all cops."

"Almost?"

"Well, I have a sister who's an ADA, but that's probably a good thing." Then his grin faded a little. "Look, Renard, as far as novas go…you're not a complete asshole. In fact, as far as Mercenary Elites go, you're not even nearly as cold-blooded as you should be."

I laughed at that and shook my head. "Shit, don't tell me you actually buy that 'cold and professional stone cold killer' rep the media loves to perpetuate."

"I don't but somehow I don't imagine the likes of Totentanz sitting in the cell you're in and engaging in idle BS like you have."

"True, he'd just glare at you and give you the silent treatment as he thought of plan to escape."

"What about you," O'Reilly's eyes narrows in suspicion as he looked at me, "you plotting your escape?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," I replied. "In fact, I've got a couple plans to get out of here that could work…except...it would mean killing at least a dozen of you to get out."

"Now that's what I don't get, you're an Elite. I thought your kind didn't care who they killed."

"Those who think like that tend to live in countries where they can't be extradited. Me, I don't generally kill members of law enforcement unless they're corrupt bastards working for a cartel boss."

"Ah, like your little jaunt in Rio last summer."

"Say what you will about that, Detective, but they were literally getting away with murder."

"Hey, you don't hear me complaining, do you? I'm just pointing out the facts. Besides, compared to what happened a few hours ago, you're small fry to the guy that the NSA is holding."

"Whoa…hold on," I said, remembering how there seemed to be a lot of activity in the last couple hours among the "brothers-in-blue" and my guard detail went from six cops to one or two. "Does this have something to do with that shooting someone was talking about?"

"Don't see why I can't tell you since it's on the news and you'll probably be hearing about it anyway, but you know about that mega-genius punk kid? David Pine Flynn, the kid who recently inherited his father's corporate assets and turned it into a new tech firm?"

_Oh shit,_ I thought since I was pretty much trapped in this crappy town because of the aforementioned mega-genius punk kid, _did someone take him out?_

"Yeah," I replied, wondering if my shadowy and unknown employer was going to activate the kill-switch in my head if Flynn got killed. Then I realized that Flynn was probably still alive since it hadn't been activated. "I read about him."

"Well, someone tried to kill him tonight, but ended up getting his vice-president instead."

Suddenly, my blood went cold when he said that. I had done my research on Flynn and his crew and I was surprised find out about the person he had hired as his vice-president. I had dealings with her (and her family, particularly her brother most recently), but I was surprised, given what I knew about them and Flynn, that she would willingly work for someone like him. "Violet," my voice was barely more than a whisper, "Violet Parr was shot?"

O'reilly must have looked at me for a couple seconds and, while I doubt he could read minds, I saw him start to instinctively reach for the weapon in his shoulder-holster before stopping himself. "You know her, don't you?"

"We've met, socially," I said, trying to sound as dismissive as I could. Truth be told, I liked Violet Parr (or Spectrum as she was known in the super community); she was cool, confident, smart, flexible, lithe, and...okay...fine...she's hot, especially when she was trying to beat the shit out of me. Of course, given our occupations, I couldn't just break up the fight and ask her out. For one, she'd beat the hell out of me and, for two, her father would also beat the hell out of me and then probably try throwing me across a couple state lines. On the other hand, she had this really cute snarl when she got pissed off...and someone shot her.

"Yeah, right," O'Reilly said. "I saw it in your eyes, Renard. There's more to it than that, isn't there? Is she a nova?"

"Can't tell you what I don't know," I said.

"You don't have to," he replied, giving me a sad smile. "Again, there's that look in your eyes. You're actually contemplating trying to escape this very moment, aren't you?"

I didn't bother denying that accusation because the bastard was right. "How is she?"

"According to the news reports, she's in critical condition." The detective looked at me again, but there was a calculating look in his eyes. It was almost as if he were planning something. "I'm gonna' level with you, Renard. I'm not a big Utopia fan, but my hands are tied. They will come for you in the next twenty-four hours, but I hear they're also going to pick up the shooter first. It's my duty to turn them over to you. If you try to escape now, everyone here has orders to gun you down and to keep putting bullets in your regenerating corpse until the Utopia team comes here to retrieve you."

"So why are you bothering to tell me this?"

"Just letting you know the rules, Renard." He then gave me a very faint nod. "When they come for you, you will be in chains and in a standard jumpsuit like the rest of the criminal trash I deal with."

I kept my expression neutral as I watched him walk away, then I allowed myself a tiny smile when I was certain he was gone. He knew my reputation, he was the one who ordered me stripped down to my boxers, and had the cell stripped of anything really useful for an escape. And now he was telling me that he was going to hand me over to Utopia wearing the usual prison monkey suit and I was to be manacled. Didn't think he'd be such a nice guy to actually give me weapons to use on the way out. For that, I decided I would go out of my way to avoid killing any of the local cops.

The Utopia security detail on the other hand...not so much. I'd deal with them after I killed the shooter.


	26. Ripple Effect IV

_Disclaimer: White Wolf owns Aberrant. Pixar/Brad Bird owns The Incredibles. I'm just borrowing their 'verses for fun and will return them when I'm done. On a side note, I don't think I have anything to fear from either camp. White Wolf has abandoned Aberrant and Brad Bird (or anyone at Pixar) doesn't read any fanfic so I think I'm safe don't have to worry about them calling to have my head on a pike._

_Author's Notes: Ooookay...here's the REST of what I was working on. The finale to the Ripple Effect arc. This chapter lights the fuses and the body count will once again resume in the next few chapters._

* * *

"_**Tonight at nine, a special CTV presentation of W5. Join us as we document the aftermath of the Mexico City tragedy and investigate the controversial actions taken by Project Utopia in response to the incident. Listen to eyewitnesses as they tell you what they experienced. Join CTV anchor Lloyd Robertson as he interviews our very own Ted Richards and Greg Paladino as they share what they witnessed in the wake of the tragedy. Tonight...on CTV."**_

-CTV Promotion for W5

"_**Despite the tragic event at their product unveiling, SST will still be releasing their Omega Console system on Black Friday, which means we could see line-ups and possible riots at various stores that will be selling the item. In other news, Novation Games and Irridium have announced they would not be backing Viasoft and Apple in their attempt to file a lawsuit against David Flynn and his company. Without the backing of the Utopia owned subsidiaries, it is doubtful neither Viasoft or Apple will still take action Flynn. Representatives for Novation and Irridium declined to comment on the decision, but there has been speculation that it might have been influenced by evidence released on the web that they had been marketing properties that Utopia's Sci-Tech Division had confiscated from other sources..."**_

-CNN Tech News

"_And hello, fellow pirates! I take it you're all enjoying the info I dumped on the net. Hell, some of the damn videos we put on Youtube have gone fucking viral! Wooooooo! Go us! It seems Utopia's been using their Sci-Tech division to confiscate what they deemed 'dangerous tech' and then marketing the shit later on after they researched and refined it, claiming it was their own stuff. (Sniff) (Sniff)...You guys smell that? Why yes, that is some Utopia corporate suits sweating about being sacrificial lambs when the lawsuits start coming. Sure, they'll probably settle out of court, but let's be honest here: this is just the beginning. They fucked with David Flynn and you know he is just dying to get some payback. Stay tuned, fellow pirates, there be some crazy shit happenin' and if you're smart, you might be able to salvage and profit off the wreckage."_

-Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

**_Aeon Building_**

**_Chicago, Illinois_**

**_1 November 2006_**

**_0900_**

Phillipa Lavielle watched with mild interest as N!Channel news anchor Meredith Byrne talked about the attempted murder of David Flynn. She couldn't help smiling as Ms. Byrne coldly reported the news and kept repeating the phrase 'Mr. Flynn was unavailable for comment' as if it were a curse. Then again, Phillipa couldn't blame the N!Channel's personnel for being annoyed, Flynn had all but shut them out, preferring to talk to other networks like CTV, BBC, CBC, and even Fox news.

_It hasn't even been twelve hours and the media storm alone is hitting like a hurricane._

She pushed a button on the remote and switched through a few other channels. CNN was covering a brief press conference with Project Utopia Director Justin Laragione who, for the hundredth time, was denying Utopia involvement despite the fact that the shooter was found with Utopia equipment. However, she had to admit that Justin was handling the pressure well.

_However, he's just a figurehead and while he's in Flynn's crosshairs, it's Thetis who's probably scrambling for cover. And if the rumors are true that someone crippled the firewalls to three of Utopia's subsidiary companies for a couple minutes, the old hag is probably shitting a brick or two._

"You really get off on this, don't you?"

Phillipa turned to address Chiraben who was lounging in one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. "On what?" she asked.

"The whole 'power of God' thing," Chiraben replied, not even opening his eyes as he leaned back. Though he appeared completely relaxed, Phillipa knew better. The shape-shifting assassin was very aware of his surroundings. "You like deciding who fails, succeeds, lives, or dies."

"And I suppose you don't like carrying out those decisions," Phillpa said, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Nah, it keeps me busy and the creative juice flowing." Then Chiraben opened his eyes and answered his lover's grin with one of his own. "Though I gotta' admit your endorsing my killing of your uncle so you can take power…that's cold, vindictive, and it scares me a little bit." Then he pretended to shudder. "And it gets me excited too."

"Now, now…we're on the clock," Phillipa warned, playfully shaking a finger at him in reprimand. "We can't be getting this office dirty so soon after I had it remodeled. It needs to be at least three months before we start testing the integrity of the furniture."

Chiraben's eyes glazed over a little bit, a dreamy smile forming on his lips as he imagined himself and Phillipa having sex on her desk and on various other items in the room; then he shook his head as he returned back to reality. "Sorry," he said, "how many more months do we have?"

"At least one and a half," Phillipa replied.

They both laughed at that comment, and then Chiraben's smile faded a little. "Well," he sighed, "I guess since we're on the clock, I should bring up a touchy subject. The upcoming little tell-all broadcast on that Canadian station tonight."

"What about it?"

"That reporter, hell, even the executive director of the network, seem to be hell bent on portraying Utopia in a bad light."

"And why shouldn't they? The last time I checked, freedom of the press was allowed." _For now,_ Phillipa silently added. "And I'm sure that they'll get really good ratings since their story will be based on fact and footage. I'm also certain that footage of Pax attempting to manhandle and threaten Flynn will draw a lot of viewers."

"Yeah," Chiraben couldn't help chuckling at that image. "You know, I have to give the little shit credit. To be able to look Pax in the eye and basically tell him to 'fuck off' while Pax is holding him up in the air…he's gotta' have balls of titanium to do that."

Phillipa smiled at that. "No," she said, "he's just very good at playing this game. He knows damn well that Pax could easily kill him, but Pax is more afraid of what will happen if he does kill Flynn. Pax, despite his near invulnerability and strength, has a few critical weaknesses and Flynn knows them all." She shook her head. "No, Pax killing Flynn would destroy Pax and Pax knows it. Then you also have the fact that Flynn probably has weaponry that could kill or maim Pax." Then her smile got bigger. "Knowing Flynn, I'm willing to bet he truly does have weapons technology that can harm Pax."

"If Flynn has that kind of tech, why doesn't he just kill the fucker?"

"Because Flynn prefers not to kill," Phillipa replied. "Don't get me wrong, he's not against killing and I'm sure he has the stomach for it. But unlike his father, David Pine Flynn prefers to break his enemies and then make them suffer as much as possible before finishing them off."

Chiraben found himself nodding in approval. "You know," he said, "I realize this kid's an enemy and needs to be taken out; but the way you're describing him and his actions is making me want to root for him."

"Well, of course, because he's a sadistic bastard like you."

"Ah, you're right. However, back to the matter at hand, the CTV special news presentation."

"As I said, let it air. Yes, it could hurt us, but it will hurt others more."

It took him a moment, but after thinking about it, Chiraben nodded in understanding. "Okay, I get it, Thetis and her Proteus crew are the ones doing most of the dirty work behind the scenes for Utopia," he said. "This report will have her scrambling to cover her involvement. Your going down there like you did will make it look like you, on behalf of the Aeon Society itself, were trying to pick up the slack where Utopia dropped the ball." He then looked at her. "Why do I get the feeling you have a trail that will lead them to Thetis?"

"Not directly to Thetis," Phillipa admitted, giving the man a sly grin. "We won't expose her directly and her name won't even come up, but there will be enough evidence planted to make people curious and I'm not just talking about conspiracy theorists and obscure radio talk-show hosts."

"And knowing Thetis' tendency to brutally quashing any breaches to secrecy, she'll just draw more attention to herself when she makes her move." Chiraben smiled in approval. "Very nice."

There was a knock on the office door, interrupting their conversation.

"Come in," Phillipa announced. The door opened and a large muscular young man with blond short-cropped hair and cobalt blue eyes entered the room, stooping slightly to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe as he entered. "Ah, Behemoth," she said in greeting, "thank you for coming."

The man stood over seven feet tall and, though he wore a tailored three-piece suit built for his massive frame, it did little to hide his musculature. Chiraben was half expecting the man/monster to grunt in greeting, but was surprised when Behemoth nodded and spoke in a soft tone. "Director Lavielle."

"I assume you've been briefed on the mission?" Phillipa asked.

"Pretty straight forward," Behemoth replied. "Although I'm surprised you want us to take the target alive."

"We need him, Robbie," Phillipa said, "I know you prefer straight search and destroy tactics, but we need him alive for the moment."

Behemoth stood there for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated his orders before speaking again. "Very well," he said, "what kind of scenario do you wish?"

"I'll leave that up to you, just so long as there is no evidence that can implicate us." Phillipa reached into her desk, pulled out a small box and handed it to the large man who opened it to examine the contents. "You might need those. That's an extra four month supply."

Behemoth nodded again, closing the box and putting it in his jacket pocket. "So the target's to be extracted, what about those guarding him?"

Chiraben studied Behemoth for a moment. For some reason, there was something about the man that looked familiar, but he couldn't place it. _Okay, I know this guy…but from where?_

"The rest are collateral damage and fatalities are acceptable," Phillipa said, "in fact, they are preferred." She paused for a moment as she considered something else, then an evil grin broke across her face. "Take Tagger and Velocity with you…they can assist you with any novas the security detail might include. Zone will take the three of you to LA where you'll rendezvous with Lucy and Decay."

Behemoth's eyes narrowed. "Legion-22," he said with cold hostility in his voice. "She's there?"

"Don't worry, Robbie, she will be informed that you are in command of this mission."

"She is not to be trusted," Behemoth warned. "Neither is Decay."

Phillipa shook her head and laughed. "Robbie, she may not be part of Genesis, but she and Decay are our allies…for now."

Behemoth smiled at the words 'for now', and nodded. "Very well, we will be ready to leave in four hours." He then turned to leave, pausing to coldly stare at Chiraben for a moment before nodding his head slightly, as if he were recognizing and acknowledging a fellow killer. Then he quietly left the room, leaving Chiraben to wonder how such an enormous man could move so fluidly through the room like…well…a cold blooded predator moving in for the kill.

"Okay," Chiraben said a few moments later, making sure that Behemoth was gone. "He's one of the Project Genesis novas, isn't he?"

"Caught that, did you?" Phillipa asked, the mischievous gleam returning to her eyes. "So what do you think?"

"I know that guy," Chiraben said. "I don't know from where, but I thought Project Genesis was…" He stopped in mid-sentence, eyes wide in realization. "No…way…you mean he's…"

Phillipa nodded. "Yes, but a younger, stronger, and more advanced version of the original."

"And the other two you mentioned? Tagger and Velocity?"

"Also Project Genesis specimens," Phillipa said, smirking at Chiraben as if she knew a dirty little secret. "Behemoth would be more than enough for the job, but Tagger and Velocity…well…I'd love to see the look on Paladino's face if he unmasks them." She laughed and pulled out a tiny data chip out of her coat. "And thanks to Legion and Decay, we now have this."

"That's what they gave you in California? If you don't mind me asking, what is it?"

Phillipa shrugged as she tossed the tiny little ship up in the air, catching it with her index and middle fingers. "Oh this," she said, "it's nothing; just Robert Lansing's little insurance policy. He was finally willing to give it up after I shattered his pelvis."

Chiraben visibly flinched at that. "Damn…remind me not to get on your bad side, babe. It looks like his insurance policy didn't help much."

Phillipa shook her head as she set the chip down on her desk, momentarily looking at the old Pine Industries logo on it. "No," she chuckled, "it didn't, but it will be interesting to see what this baby can do when it has the right kind of body…very interesting indeed."

* * *

**_Metroville General Hospital_**

**_Metroville, California_**

Though he betrayed no outward emotion, David inwardly sighed with relief as he, flanked by Null and Jake Peters, made his way down the corridor towards Violet's room. A quick mental interface with the hospital security system informed him that Helen Parr and her son, Dash, were currently in the hospital cafeteria. Bob Parr was currently talking to Doctor Saunders and a few of Dicker's crew in one of the hospital solariums. The last thing he needed was confrontation with the family.

The one odd thing though was that he couldn't find a trace of the youngest Parr family member, Jack. David doubted the family would leave the boy home and he was certain Jack Parr was not cold blooded enough to stay home while his sister lay dying in the hospital.

_Then again,_ he thought, _some people thought that about you when you were that age. But it could also be argued that, unlike Jack, you're not a real human being._

David shoved that dark thought to the back of his mind; he had been plagued by doubts of his own humanity and if he was truly "real" through most of his life.

_Understandable…since you're just a glorified meat puppet born and grown in a vat…STOP IT!_

"David, you okay?" The question broke up the mental war David was having with himself and he blinked a couple times before he turned to look at the person who asked him the question.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Null," he replied.

"No offense, Flynn, but you're full of shit," Jake said. "Have you gotten any sleep at all in the last twenty four hours?"

"I took a nap at the office when I got back from the NSA building earlier this morning," David said as they stopped outside the door of Violet's room. "Besides, Jake, how can anyone sleep right now? One of my employees, a close friend, is in this room dying and it's because of me."

"Bullshit," Jake said. "No offense, but you're not infallible. You had no way of knowing someone would send a sniper after you. You keep thinking like you are now, you're just going to distract yourself and the next guy WILL be able to take you out."

"Jake's right, David," Null said. "The bastard and his sister took themselves off the grid, there's no way you could have tracked them. Hell, even their own brother didn't know where they were. However, Jake's got a point; you start second guessing yourself, you'll make yourself an easier target next time. We're not even sure if Utopia's involved, this might have just been a lone op."

"No, Utopia was involved, just not the way you'd think."

"What do you mean?"

David shook his head again. "Never mind, I'll tell you about it later." He then reached out and opened the door, pausing to look back at Null and Jake. "I won't be long," he told them, "just a few minutes."

Null watched his friend enter Violet's room and waited until the door was closed before he spoke again. "Okay, Jake, what's bugging you?"

The large black man shook his head. "Honestly, I'm not sure. When I first took this job, I thought I was going to basically act as a security guard for a bunch of mega-intelligent punk kids and, in some ways, I am. But I can't help wondering if that's just a front." He paused for a moment. "I'm not sure how to say this."

"Well, usually right out in the open is the best way to go," Null said, grinning at his co-worker. "At least that's how it usually works with this crew."

"That's just it, Null. Flynn's eighteen and you're…what…eighteen, nineteen?"

"Nineteen."

"That's just it…most kids your age, and keep in mind I'm referring to the 18 to 24 crowd, should be acting like they're arrogant little snots who think they know it all. And, some of you act like that, but you and Flynn…yeah, you act like little punks to the public, but that seems more for show. The way you two act around each other, and I guess I should throw Violet in there as well, you act more like soldiers who've seen some action."

For several seconds, Null said nothing, but merely stood there before finally nodding. "You're right," he admitted, "though I can't speak for Violet, David and I went through some really ugly shit last year."

"I'm not even going to ask what it was exactly," Jake said, "but does it have something to do with Flynn's hatred for Utopia?"

"You could say that," Null replied, though the smile he gave Jake didn't reach his eyes which took on a more cold and calculating look. "I'm gonna' be straight with you, Jake. I know you're a vet and you've seen action, but trust me when I say this is beyond your security clearance."

Jake laughed at that. "Is that a fancy way of saying you don't fully trust me?"

This time, the smile on Null's face was real. "Yeah, pretty much," he said, "but someday, we'll tell you."

Null didn't say anything else, but merely nodded in agreement. However, the conversation alone made him wonder, for what was probably the millionth time, what the hell he had gotten himself into and, if he ever did learn the truth, would he live to regret it?

* * *

David stood next to the bed for several seconds, studying the prone form lying there. With the all the tubes attached to her body and the bracing keeping Violet effectively immobile, it was almost hard to tell there was an actual human being there. In fact, the only evidence that she was alive was the beeping coming from various machinery monitoring her vitals and helping her breathe. She was still in a coma and, according to the doctors, they estimated she had a fifty percent chance of waking up.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there. It could have been a few seconds, a few minutes, maybe an hour...it was as if time didn't matter. However long it took, it was enough for him to replay all the memories he had of Violet and how, in only just a few short months, she went from being a stranger to becoming part of his inner circle of friends.

"Three months," he finally said, "it's hard to believe, isn't it? When we first met, you didn't trust me and I really couldn't blame you; after all, my father did try to kill your family and kidnap your brother. But you took my offer, even though you probably figured it was a good way to keep tabs on me and report to the old man."

He paused for a moment, imagining her replying with some snide remark and he chuckled. "Yeah, I know, you had better things to do than spy on me all the time. And I'm sure playing the role of my conscience was a pain in the ass for you, but I always valued your advice. Well...that and Zoe is more of a partner-in-crime type than using common sense which is probably why I love her." He looked around for a moment, making sure he truly was alone in the room. "It's kind of funny, though, that she sees you as a threat...thinks I might have a thing for you."

His smile faded a little.

"Actually, her fears aren't baseless and I'll be honest; if things were different...yeah...I'd probably chase after you. But let's face it, there's too much bad blood and history between your family and my father. Besides, even there wasn't that problem, it wouldn't prevent your father from ripping me into pieces and tossing them across the country."

He pulled up a chair and sat down, bowing his head for a moment and saying a silent prayer. Granted, he considered himself an atheist but, on the off chance he was wrong, it wouldn't hurt to say a prayer for a dying friend.

"I knew we were getting into a war, Vi, but I didn't think something like this would happen. I mean, I figured we would be targeted, but I didn't think it would be by a friend of yours. Although, I hear that he hadn't planned on hitting you at all and that I was the intended target. Needless to say, his aiming fucking sucks." He shook his head at that last comment. "I'm sorry...it's just...I figured they would hit me directly. Fuck...I guess your mom was right...this was my fault. I don't know what else to say to you."

He didn't say anything else for the next few minutes. Instead, he just sat there watching her, occasionally glancing at the instruments and hoping that something miraculous would happen, but he knew that was a futile hope. Shit like that only happened in works of fiction, not reality. After a couple more minutes, he got up out of his chair, leaned forward and lightly kissed her on the forehead.

"Just do me a favor, Vi...don't die on me, okay? At the very least, I need you to stick around and keep me from going over the deep end."

He then turned and quietly left the room.

* * *

On the other side of Violet's bed, there was another chair. For a moment, the space in the chair shimmered for a moment as Jack Parr slowly became visible. He had remained behind with Violet while the rest of family went to get something to eat and talk to the doctors. When he heard voices outside the door he didn't recognize, he made himself invisible and watched.

_Well,_ he thought for himself, _that was interesting. _He had considered 'porting down to where his parents were and telling them what he saw, but then he heard Flynn talking to his people outside. Curious, he went invisible again and phased through the door, following the three men as they walked away.

"So, what's the plan, David?" Null asked as they continued down the hall.

"To be honest, Null, I don't have one," David replied. "Right now, it's taking all my effort to not do something stupid and turn Addis Ababa into a fucking crater with their own weaponry. Yeah, their new firewalls might hurt or even kill me, but I don't care."

"Whoa there, Dave," Null said, grabbing his friend's arm. "You need to focus."

"I am focused, Null. Utopia and Aeon need to be taught a lesson."

"Well we're not even sure Utopia was involved. The Paladino kid said he was acting alone."

"Null, Crystal went through his head. Yeah, he may have started out coming after me on his own, but someone telepathically prodded him and took great pains to hide their identity."

Jake cleared his throat, getting the attention of both men. "Okay, let's look at it another way. Flynn, you ran into this shit's brother in Mexico City. Could he have been in on it?"

David shook his head. "No," he said, "Gregory Paladino had nothing to do with it. He could have killed me himself and would have if he wanted to. He had plenty of chances to do it and he hadn't been in contact with his siblings in the last six months."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because, Null, the man isn't a coward and he wouldn't let his little brother with a sniper rifle kill me when all he had to do was blink and turn me into ash."

"Okay," Jake said, "he does have a point. Greg Paladino would have just fried Flynn and left nothing but a few dust particles."

"Fine." Null didn't seem entirely sold on that explanation. "So if Utopia was involved, what are you going to do, David? No offense, you can't just send an assassin of your own in to pick off their leadership."

A cold smile formed on David's lips as he stopped and turned around to face Null and Jake. "That's true," he admitted, "but I have other ways to hurt them."

"Sorry, Dave, but hacking a few of their subsidiary companies and crippling their firewalls for a few minutes didn't do much damage."

"No, but that was just the warm-up." David face broke into a toothy grin, but the eyes were that of a cold rage. "They hurt one of mine, I'll hurt several of theirs."

"And how do you plan on doing that, boss?" Jake asked. "Like Null said, you can't just assassinate people like they can."

"Oh, trust me, Jake," David said as he mentally linked up and start hacking various networks, "there's a way."

"You're not going to blow anything up, are you?" There was concern in Null's voice. "You really don't need to give them a reason to actually enforce the technology ban on us."

"Don't worry Null," David assured his friend, "this will hurt them, but not in the way they would expect."

Jack watched the three exit the building, then started to head towards the hospital cafeteria where the rest of his family was. He dropped the invisibility field when he made sure there were no witnesses or cameras, then kept going. He didn't know what Flynn had planned, but he figured it was best that his family and Director Dicker should know Flynn was up to something.

* * *

**_Unknown Warehouse_**

**_Houston, Texas_**

"We had a plan," Horton snarled, "why delay it?"

Buddy rolled his eyes in irritation and was half tempted to kill the man right then and there, but merely shook his head. "Because, Brother Horton," he replied, with slight sarcasm on the word 'Brother', "the incident in Metroville has got Utopia scrambling to cover their asses. Security is going to be pretty tight for the next few days. They've been accused of attacking someone, evidence was found at the scene, and you can bet they're expecting retaliation of some kind."

"Bah, David Flynn is an arrogant little shit with super-smarts and no balls," Horton snorted. "We should take him down next."

Though Buddy considered his "son" to be an enemy that had to be put down, he did feel a little offended at Horton's description of the boy.

_Horton, that "little shit" could very easily destroy you if he put his mind to it. But that's okay; you're going to be dead in a few days anyway though I have to admit it's taking all of my patience to keep from putting two bullets in your head._

Outwardly, Buddy smiled and shrugged. "Relax, Horton, so it got pushed back a few days to the sixth. Think about it, Utopia's on high alert, especially if the news stories of a cyber-attack on some of their subsidiaries were true. We lie low, stick with the plan, and hit them on the sixth."

"He's right, you know," said a new voice. Buddy looked up to see one of Horton's crew, a young man who called himself 'Ryder', walking over with one of the Arasaka assault rifles over his shoulder. "Give them a few days after an incident; their security detail will fall into routine and get sloppy."

Horton turned to glare at the younger man. "Boy, I know that's how they did it in regular military," he snapped, "but this is the real world and that's not how it works."

Ryder rolled his eyes. "My apologies Mr. Horton, I forgot my tour of combat on the Afghan/Pakistani border pales in comparison to your Desert Storm experience."

Buddy kept silent, curious at the interaction between the two men. _Hmm, it would seem that not everyone in Horton's crew is a knuckle-dragging hick; this kid looks like he is actually intelligent._

"Careful, boy," Horton warned, "I served my time and killed my share of the enemy...just like you."

"Maybe," Ryder answered, "but mine were shooting at me as opposed to running away."

In one smooth motion, Horton pulled out a .45 and pointed it at the young man, only to stop when he realized the young man had leveled the assault rifle he was carrying at him.

"Gentlemen," Buddy said, stepping between the two. "Enough with the cock-swinging." Although, to be honest, Buddy almost regretted getting involved because it looked like a cool fight was going to break out. But he also realized that he didn't want to cause the team to fracture; after, there was a mission to carry out. "Look, it's only for a few days. Not only that...it looks like they're pulling their more powerful novas from the Rashoud Center in Houston and moving them to California. It means an easier target."

"They why are we even carrying out this raid if those monsters aren't even going to be there?" Horton growled. "No one will take us seriously if we only kill the low powered ones."

Buddy shook his head, once again wondering if Horton's IQ actually reached the double-digit range. "Horton, relax. There will be plenty of the devil's spawn around for you to fuck up along with their little minions. Beside, if this mission is successful, we will strike a blow that will bring Utopia to its knees and strike fear into the hearts of novas worldwide."

"Sounds nice and all," Horton said, putting his pistol back in his shoulder holster, "but right now all I hear is exquisite bullshit and empty words. And don't try to act like a true-believer in the cause, Gabriel. Yeah, I believe your hatred for novas, but I wonder if you truly hate them for what they are or if you simply want them out of the way for whatever you have planned."

"And how is that any different than you wanting to oust Piper from his position?" Buddy countered. His response caused all the other Michaelite members to whisper amongst themselves. It was no secret that Horton believed Piper was "soft" for a leader and was biding his time until he could remove the old man. However, Piper also had a loyal following and Buddy made sure this mission included people from both factions so he could play them off against each other.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Gabriel." Horton then turned to look at Ryder. "If you can't stomach a real fight," he said to the younger man, "then you can hang out with Gabby over there. Just remember that real battles never go according to plan and people could get caught in the crossfire"

Buddy noticed that Ryder still had his weapon leveled at Horton. "Whatever you say, old man," the kid replied as he lowered the weapon, not even showing the least bit of worry about Horton's veiled threat, "just remember it works both ways." The kid then slung the rifle back over his shoulder and then turned to face Buddy. "I guess you're stuck with me, Mr. Gabriel."

Buddy mentally recalled what he knew of Ryder. The kid was a twenty-two year old former marine who was dishonorably discharged. There were accusations that he had killed two of his fellow marines but he was found innocent of the crime, though it was obvious that there was some sort of cover-up. Buddy would have considered the kid mentally unstable, except the boy had this cold and quiet demeanor that made it clear the boy was not unstable at all; he was just a cold and efficient killer who went after his objective.

_Not sure why Horton even wanted this boy in his crew._

"If he don't mind me asking, Ryder," he said, pausing for a moment to make sure Horton was out of earshot, "why are you here?"

"The truth, Mr. Gabriel? Piper doesn't trust either of you and I was sent to make sure you both follow your orders or kill you if you deviate from them."

For a moment, Buddy considered killing the kid right there, but realized that Ryder was only being truthful. So Piper sent the kid to monitor both of them. Buddy didn't like spies, but he also realized Ryder was also something else.

_He's a witness. Sure, I could kill him, but why do that if he can just tag along and report back to Piper what happens? I'll be in the clear, my loyalty confirmed, Horton will be dead, Utopia will be bleeding and dying when we're through. Besides, having a cold blooded assassin in my group could come in handy._

"Well," Buddy said as he offered his hand to the young man, "welcome to the 'wuss squad', kid."

Ryder smiled as he shook Buddy's hand. "Given what we're after, Mr. Gabriel, I would hardly call us that." However, unknown to Buddy, Horton, or even the rest of the Church of Michael, the man known as Timothy Ryder hid his true thoughts behind that cold smile.

When he first infiltrated the Church of Michael six months ago, he figured it was just a bunch of pseudo-religious militant whack job militia types. He was shocked to learn how organized the group really was and what little his superiors in The Directive actually knew about them. Now, with the mysterious Gabriel joining the ranks, Ryder was convinced that the Church of Michael was now a more dangerous threat than Project Utopia or even The Teragen. Originally, he had planned to break off from Horton's group during the raid and contacting his superiors. Unfortunately, his clash with Horton had him re-assigned to Gabriel's strike team. Part of him was proud of the fact that he had managed to infiltrate Gabriel's circle, but the rest of him was silently screaming for him to get the hell out of there. There was something about Gabriel that made Ryder realize the man had an agenda and it had nothing to do with the Church of Michael's cause. Being assigned to Gabriel's crew meant he couldn't break away and meet up with his Directive handlers. Of course what Timothy Ryder didn't know was that his falling out with Horton would save his life in the next few days. He turned to walk over where his gear was stowed, but stopped when he saw something on the television someone had set up on a table in the middle of the warehouse. It was a news broadcast, but it was the picture of a young woman in the story that caught his attention...a woman he hadn't seen in nearly two years.

"_**Ms. Parr is currently in critical condition at a local hospital and authorities have managed to capture the shooter. However, they have yet to reveal the identity of the shooter or any motivation for the attempt..."**_

_Oh god...Violet...who did this?_

For a moment, concern appeared on the young man's face, but he managed to quickly hide it behind a cold expression before anyone could notice. He had to focus on the mission at hand, then he would contact his Directive handlers, pass on what he knew and, hopefully, Timothy Ryder would disappear.

Then Tony Rydinger would start tracking down the bastard who shot his ex-girlfriend. They may no longer be a couple, but Violet was still a close friend and Tony was going to make sure whoever did this would suffer a very long time before he put a bullet between their eyes.


	27. No More Games I

Disclaimer: Aberrant owned by White Wolf (and they won't let it go even though they've abandoned it). The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. I'm really glad that no one affiliated with either of those two properties reads my stuff...otherwise they'd have burned me at the stake and scattered my ashes in a sewer in Chicago.

Author's Notes: Okay, kind of threw this chapter together...lots of shit happening here. As you know, David is pissed. A close friend of his was nearly murdered and he is out for blood. Playtime is over, ladies and gentlemen, things get serious. As always, I want to thank all of you for sticking around on this crazy ride, including the guy from Russia.

* * *

"_Greetings, my fellow pirates! This is Dactyl and I'm putting out the call: we got a raid and it's gonna' be huge. You want in, meet me at node 1069 within the next thirty minutes and we'll chat. Bring your best bouncers and trail-worms, the more the merrier. We want as many trails, ghost signatures, and phantoms that can by conjured up. Like I said before, this is gonna' be huuuuuge. I'll be involved, as will Sonic-X, and Pink Terror. Join the party for one of the craziest cyber-rallies ever pulled."_

Anonymous Post, H-Cove

"_WTF! Dactyl, does this have something to do with Carrotboy venting his rage? Count me in, by the way. Wooooooooooooooot!"_

Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

**__****_NSA Facility_**

**_Metroville, California_**

**_1 November 2006_**

**_1030 HRS (PST)_**

"What did you say?" Though he kept his voice even when he asked the question, David Flynn's cold rage could easily be heard. Even NSA Director Dicker knew that tone of voice and was silently wondering if he should have had an extra security detail with him just to deal with the boy's reaction. On the other hand, another part of him couldn't help enjoying the moment as Flynn was facing off against a Utopia bureaucrat and his two nova flunkies.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear, Mr. Flynn," the Utopia representative said dismissively, ignoring the slight narrowing of the boy's eyes. "Mr. Paladino was found with stolen Utopia technology and, in the interest of international security, it is best that we take him into custody for questioning. His possessing such dangerous tech unauthorized is enough for us to push for his transfer under article UNS14-23 sub-section B, fourth para-"

"Spare me the Sci-Tech regulation bullshit," David snapped, cutting the man off. "We both know that article is meant to be used solely for your people to rip off technology developed by non-Utopia interests." He waved off the Utopia rep's attempt to object to that. "In this case," he continued, "Paladino didn't develop some dangerous weapon…he was using YOUR weapon."

"All the more reason he should be turned over to us, because that means we have a leak and we need to know where he bought the weapons." Though Jefferson Kent, the Utopia bureaucrat, wasn't a nova, he showed no sign of being intimidated by Flynn and the two novas flanking the kid. Of course, Kent's confidence was probably bolstered by the fact that he had two T2M novas backing him as well. "And last time I checked, Mr. Flynn, you are not part of the NSA and have no authority to object to our actions.'

"No," Flynn's voice was soft and cool as he spoke, "I'm just the guy who saw a friend get shot by someone using YOUR equipment."

"Well," Kent sniffed, "I suppose you have reason to be angry." Then he gave David a malicious grin. "It's too bad Miss Parr didn't die; then you probably could have been able to hold Paladino for murder."

David almost took a step forward, but Dicker saw the nova known as Null slightly nudge David on the shoulder. The two T2M novas, a wiry muscular man named Makara and larger man known as Stalwart, both straightened up a little as if getting ready for a fight. Dicker recognized Stalwart as one of the Utopia novas that had attacked SST a few months earlier.

"Please, Mr. Flynn," Kent chuckled. "Do something stupid; give us an excuse to take you into custody. Your little tantrum with three of our subsidiaries and trashing their network firewalls is enough of an excuse to look into investigating you."

"You have no evidence of that."

"Maybe not, but I don't know very many arrogant little shits like you who have the abilities you do."

For a moment, David Flynn looked like he wanted to say something in response, but he nodded instead and stepped back. "Fine, take the bastard."

"Very good, little man," Kent said, clearly enjoying his victory. "Now be a good boy and let us grown-ups handle this."

"Don't." It was only one word, and everyone was surprised at who said it. Makara, the wiry nova from T2M was shaking his head as he spoke again. "Don't antagonize him," he warned Kent, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "We can't afford another incident."

Kent momentarily glared at Makara's hand, causing the nova to pull his hand away. Then he returned his attention to David Flynn. "Unlike Lansing," he said to David, "I'm not that easy to manipulate. You know who I answer to and if you try to take action against them, there will be repercussions."

Flynn simply stood there, saying nothing, but Dicker could already sense that the boy was up to something. This Jefferson Kent was clearly not the standard Utopia bureaucrat; he was obviously someone with direct ties to Aeon.

_And he's apparently used to giving the impression of power to go with his position and reminding those beneath him of their place,_ Dicker thought to himself. _But that's not the course of action to take with Flynn, Kent, especially if you're Aeon._

Dicker knew Flynn had a deep hatred for the organization and, given the boy's background, it wasn't hard to understand. But in the last year, the boy's hatred went from disgust to a bitter hatred that, while hidden well between a smug façade, promised a bloody war ahead. Though he wasn't sure, Dicker suspected that Flynn's new level of hatred stemmed from what happened in Redfield, Oklahoma a year ago. He had asked Flynn what had happened over there, but all the boy would reply with was "very bad shit". Around that time, the mysterious unknown nova known as Null surfaced and began to hang out with Flynn. Dicker and his crew were unable to pull any actual data on the man, but his analysts suspected that Null might have been one of the few remaining survivors from Redfield.

Hell, Dicker and his fellow counterparts in The Directive still had no clue what Utopia was doing in that small backwater town. The official story is that an experimental power plant exploded, taking out most of the town and the media quickly buried the story. However, Dicker knew a cover up when he saw one, especially when he learned that Flynn was somehow involved with the incident.

_And if you're directly tied to Aeon, Mr. Kent, I'd be careful of the boy if I were you._

"Director Dicker," Kent called out. "Please escort Mr. Flynn and his entourage out of the facility."

If Richard Dicker had his way, he would have told Kent to go fuck himself, but, as the director of a national agency, he had to respect protocol and established laws. "Very well," he said. "Mr. Flynn, if you and your people would be so kind as to follow me out."

To Dicker's relief, Flynn nodded. "Yes, Director," the young man said. He and his two nova body guards started to follow Dicker down the corridor, but he stopped a couple seconds later. "Mr. Kent," he said, looking over his shoulder. "I'm well aware of whom you answer to, but there is something you should know."

"And, what might that be, Mr. Flynn?" Kent sneered condescendingly. "Please…do tell me."

Dicker wondered if Kent would have felt the same sense of dread he felt when he saw the cold smile form on Flynn's lips. He truly believed if the Utopia rep had seen the boy's expression, he would have realized that Flynn's next words were not a bluff. "I'm not scared of them, either."

"If you say so, Mr. Flynn," Kent laughed, as did Stalwart, "If you say so."

Dicker noted that Makara didn't share his superior's sentiments. _Curious,_ he thought, _I wonder how much Makara knows._

Not that it mattered. All Richard Dicker really cared about was whatever nasty form of retaliation David Flynn was planning. He waited until Flynn and his entourage entered the elevator and the doors closed before he spoke.

"Whatever you have planned, Flynn," he said, hoping the boy would catch the warning tone in his voice, "do not cause an international incident."

Flynn merely shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Director," he said. "And neither do you."

"Seriously, Flynn, I am asking you…no…make that an order. Do NOT cross that line, because I can't protect you if you do." Dicker could see the young man stiffen a little, something he always did when Dicker actually gave him an order. "You know I don't like this any more than you do. Violet and her family are close friends of mine as well."

David said nothing as the elevator descended to the main floor. When the doors opened, he finally sighed as he stepped out the doors. "Fine," he said, "you have my word, I won't do anything to cause an ugly international incident."

"I mean it, kid," Dicker warned, "don't do anything stupid."

"Dicker, you know me better than that," the boy laughed, "and you have my word, I won't do anything stupid."

Dicker watched Flynn and his two bodyguards walk away, but he didn't take comfort in David's words. The kid would actually keep his promise and not do something stupid, but Dicker was more afraid of the fallout of whatever Flynn had planned.

_Damn, _he thought_, I should have retired when I had the chance._

* * *

"So what happens now?" Null asked as he, Jake, and David made their way to the NSA parking lot where Jake's Harley Davidson and David's car were parked.

"Well, Dicker told me not to do anything stupid," David said. He stopped in front of his Mustang and turned to look at the other two novas. "So I guess that rules out any overt retaliation and, as you pointed out, I don't tend to assassinate people. So here is what we're going to do. Jake, I have a meeting with Councilman Best regarding the upcoming election. Talk to Vi, she can…" He stopped in mid-sentence, bowing his head and momentarily clenching his fists. "Fuck, I really did rely on her." He fell silent for a few seconds and then looked back up at his two friends. "Okay…I have a meeting with the Councilman at noon at Red's Bar and Grill. Jake, I need you to call him and see if he can move it back a few hours. I don't think he'll complain too much because I'm sure he knows the situation."

Jake nodded in response and then straddled his Harley as he put his helmet on. A few seconds later, he was gunning the engine to his motorcycle and tearing out of the parking lot.

"Um…yeah, about that," Null said. "What is the deal with Councilman Best? You've been donating to his campaign and I can see why, but I'm surprised he's not pushing Violet's shooting as an incident that happened on the current mayor's watch."

"Not when close friends are involved, Null," David said as he opened the driver's side door to his car and got in. He closed the door as Null misted into the passenger's seat. "Best may be a politician, but I doubt he'd use his goddaughter for political fodder."

"You got a point, but you didn't really answer my first question. What are you going to do?"

David started the car and waited until they were out of the parking lot before he answered. "Utopia used Paladino as a pawn to get to me," David replied. "Up until now, I kept it bloodless, but if they want to play rough, we'll play rough."

"Um, Dave, I thought you weren't going to assassinate people." Null wasn't sure he liked the cold smile on David's face. He had seen that particular expression only once before and that was in Redfield, when he saw what he originally considered to be a "scrawny ass white boy" calmly kill four security guards. Then again, they had been torturing the boy for information. Null, still remembered the blank look in David's face when he then swung the pistol in his direction and stood there for a few seconds before lowering the pistol he had taken from one of the guards.

The smile on David's face warmed a little, but the malicious gleam in his eyes was still there. "Relax, Null, we're not going to kill anyone…but certain government agencies might after today."

"Okay, what are you going to do?" Now Null was worried, because David didn't usually say things like that unless he had something planned.

"Oh nothing," David said as he had the Mustang stop at a red light. He looked up at a Bank of America branch across the street that had a large digital screen on the front of the building, airing news footage from N!Channel. He smiled again as he read the little news trailer at the base of the screen announcing that Utopia Director Justin Laragione would be holding a press conference at the UN building at three in the afternoon, eastern time. "We're just going to hack the UN."

"What!"

David merely shook his head as he pulled out his cell-phone, mentally linked with it, and had it dial number as it activated its speaker setting. The phone rang once before someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Shiro, you got everything set up?" David asked.

"Got some people from H-Cove, most of them are competent, but we got a few A-listers helpings us out."

"Nice...you better wake up Zoe. I want her fully alert for this."

"Gotcha'. How did things go with the NSA?"

"Not good," David replied. "Someone at Utopia played the jurisdiction card and they're taking Paladino and his equipment into custody."

Shiro cursed in Japanese for a couple seconds before finally saying, "So what happens now?"

"Right now, nothing. However, when you wake up Zoe, I want her to do some digging on one Jefferson Kent...he's Utopia's new Director of International Operations. I'm not sure, but something about this guy doesn't seem right."

"David," Shiro laughed, "this is Utopia we're talking about, nothing seems right with them."

Despite his anger, David caught himself laughing at Shiro's quip. "True...okay, we're about ten minutes out. Have everyone ready because we don't have much time to prepare."

"Got it." Shiro then terminated the connection.

David glanced over at Null. "What?" he asked.

"Seriously, David," Null said, "the UN? What part of 'don't cause an international incident' do you not understand."

"Oh, we're not causing the incident, Null," David chuckled humorlessly, "we're just going to bring it to light. It's everyone else that's going to make it an incident."

* * *

**_Metroville California_**

**_1 November 2006_**

**_Syndrome Software & Technology_**

**_1100 Hrs._**

Zoe woke up and yawned as she stretched out on the couch in her office (which, to be fair, looked more like a college dorm room than an office). Brody, her dog, stirred on the floor next to the couch, promptly sitting up as he heard his mistress making noise. And, in usual Brody fashion, he then proceeded with his morning ritual: licking Zoe's face.

"Ach! I'm awake, I'm awake," Zoe said, shoving the Australian shepherd's cold nose and wet tongue away. She then wiped her face with her hand and blinked a couple times before focusing on the Hello Kitty clock hanging on her wall next to her poster of the punk rock band ANKST. When she saw what time it was, she immediately jumped off the couch. "Shit! Eleven o'clock?"

She jumped out off the couch, accidentally stepping on Brody's tail, causing the dog to yelp.

"Oh shit...sorry, Brody, sorry, sorry, sorry," she said as she reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears who then proceeded to lick her hand in forgiveness for her misstep. "I'm sorry, boy...had a bad night." Zoe walked over to her desk and grabbed a couple Milkbones dog treats out of the cookie jar sitting next to her computer monitor. "Here ya go, boy."

Brody, took the offered treats out of her hand and jumped back on the couch where he proceeded to chomp on his goodies, pausing for a moment when someone knocked on the door of Zoe's office.

"Yo, Zoe, you in there?" It was Shiro Murakami.

Zoe walked over and opened the door. "Yeah, I'm here, Shiro...what's up?" Then she noticed Shiro was carrying both of his lap-tops under one arm and a mocha in his other hand. "Okay, don't you think that's a little overkill?"

"David's on his way back from visiting Violet at the hospital," the reptilian nova said as he handed her the mocha. "He wants us to be ready when he gets here."

"Any word on her condition?" Zoe asked before taking a sip of the offered mocha.

"No," Shiro replied, shaking his head as he smiled sadly, "though the docs said she's stabilized but still critical. As for the extra hardware, this is going to be a big one. Ricky, Larry, and some of the others are already down there setting up. Already got some online support as well."

"Damn...exactly, what are we hitting today that has David calling for all the big guns here and from outside?"

Shiro waited until Zoe was starting to gulp down the rest of her drink before he answered. "Oh, nothing special," he said with an evil grin, "just the UN?"

Zoe choked on her mocha, some of it shooting out of her nose. "What!"

Shiro chuckled and shook his head as Zoe wiped her drink off her face and glared at him. "Hey, now we're even for you shooting me."

"Not funny, Shiro," Zoe snapped. "Now...the UN, seriously? Why?"

"Well, to be honest, David will be doing the main hacking part," Shiro said. "He just needs us to help him cause chaos to distract Utopia."

"So where's David now?"

"Like I said, he's on his way back from the hospital, but he wanted to stop by the NSA first." Then Shiro frowned as he remembered the conversation he had with David. "Apparently Utopia sent some people to pull some jurisdictional BS. Which reminds me...he also wants you to do some digging regarding a Utopia guy by the name of Jefferson Kent."

"Okay, I can do that. Just one thing though, what exactly does David have planned?"

"He wouldn't say, but he says it's going to be huge."

"Well it is the UN," Zoe said, "of course it's going to be huge."

"Actually, he'll be handling the major hacking parts, he just wants us to lay down distractions."

"Distractions?" Zoe stood there for a moment as she tried to figure out why David would want everybody laying down so much cover for him. "What exactly is he trying to get?"

"He wouldn't say...so hurry up, grab your deck and get down there." Shiro then headed down the hallway towards the elevator. "We meet at hub 1069...you got ten minutes to be there."

"Fine, fine," Zoe grumbled as she walked over to a cabinet, opened it up, and pulled out her lap-top. "C'mon, Brody," she said, "it's time for us to go make history."

As she and Brody made their way to the elevator, however, Zoe couldn't help wondering what David had planned. Ever since Violet got shot, he showed a side that he rarely showed to anyone; a dark side that made her wonder if he was channeling his biological father. While she didn't know much from Buddy Pine, what she heard from Dicker and her parents chilled her to the bone. She knew David could be ruthless when dealing with his enemies, but he never killed anyone.

However, after everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours, Zoe found herself asking a question she never thought of: What would happen if David did truly "snap"?

After a couple seconds, she shoved that thought aside. Now was not the time to think about things like that. David needed her and she wasn't about to let him down.

* * *

**_UN Building_**

**_Manhattan, New York_**

**_1500 HRS (EST)_**

Justin Laragione was a good man, or at least thought he was. He truly believed in the goals of Project Utopia in creating a better world and that, despite some tough decisions, they were doing the right thing. However, lately, he found himself wondering where the dream went wrong. Oh, he knew that his affiliates with the Aeon Society, particularly that bitch Thetis, did the occasional piece of "dirty work", but he always managed to convince himself it was for the right reasons.

However, lately, so much shit hit the fan all at once and now he was being given the ugly task of handling the fallout of the latest shit storm. It was bad enough the investigation of the attack on the San Francisco waterfront yielded nothing but more questions than answers. Then there was the attack on Mexico City and the debacle of Utopia seemingly blundering attempt to provide aid and relief to what had been one of their greatest accomplishments. It was embarrassing to see people like David Flynn and Count Orzaiz of the Teragen spearhead the initial relief efforts while the world saw an obnoxious Caestus Pax, on live television, attempt to pummel the young man for daring to offer help.

Of course, Justin was aware that it wasn't Pax's fault. Flynn had intentionally baited the nova strongman and Pax fell for it. Thankfully, Pax had the smarts to realize that he was caught on camera and promptly got out of there but the damage had already been done. "Camp Makeshift", the SST/Teragen sponsored camp had gone from being a makeshift tent city/shantytown to becoming a fully functional encampment with temporary structures, power-generators, and surgical center. Justin noted grimly that groups from the United States, Great Britain, Germany, Japan, Russia, and even China had sent personnel and supplies to Camp Makeshift.

_All of them were governments who don't trust Utopia and would love to see us fail._

Eventually, Utopia was able to set up its own operation, but it was three days after the incident and it took a lot of influence to get a majority of the world news organizations to promote Utopia's relief efforts.

It was around that time that Justin Laragione had realized that someone had a serious hate-on for his organization. However, if someone had told him that it was some arrogant eighteen year old punk kid that would be causing him problems, Justin would have told those people to stop snorting whatever drug they were doing at the time.

David Pine Flynn.

Until five months ago, Justin hadn't even heard of the little shit. The boy suddenly surfaced, announcing he was taking control what was left of his dead father's assets and forming his own tech company. Then the kid started hiring novas and intelligent baselines, mostly young and talented beings like himself. By then, Justin had a bad feeling about the kid, but it was the alert that came from Aeon a day later informing him that Flynn was to be considered a potential Alpha level threat.

Justin tried to get his superiors at Aeon to give him more information, but all he got was a warning to tread carefully around Flynn. Some investigations on his own led him to the tragic Spiritwalker Project in Oklahoma that resulted in an accident that wiped out most of the small town it was based in. After that, he found nothing.

Then his International Operations Director, an idiot named Robert Lansing, tried to spearhead an attack on Flynn's company and have all the novas there taken into custody. That resulted in an embarrassment as Flynn's people not only held off a Utopia strike team, but managed to take down three of Team Tomorrow's more powerful novas. Lansing shortly disappeared after that incident and Justin's people were not able to find the bastard.

The attack on Mexico City by an unknown nova using advanced technology resulted with David Flynn once again clashing with Utopia and that was when Laragione realized that Flynn was not just some arrogant punk thumbing his nose at Utopia…David Flynn truly hated them. This became even more apparent as Flynn proceeded to destroy Brandi Miller on N!Channel along with the careers of several other key diplomats in Utopia's hierarchy.

However, despite this hostility, Laragione figured that the situation could be contained and, perhaps, he could talk to Flynn directly and work something out. That hope died when someone using Utopia weaponry tried to assassinate Flynn the previous night, but ended up gunning down one of Flynn's friends instead.

Flynn's response was quick. Twenty minutes after the attempt on his life, the network firewalls to three of Utopia's main subsidiary companies were shut down and, for a few minutes, hackers worldwide were able to break in and steal whatever data they could walk out with before Utopia restored the firewalls.

His conversation with Thetis didn't help his view on the situation either, despite her claims that Proteus had nothing to do with the attempt on Flynn. However, he did see one thing in the old woman's eyes he hadn't seen before; it was fear. Justin knew there was some sort of power shuffle going on with Aeon, but didn't care much since Thetis had done her best to kick him out of Chicago citing that he had enough responsibility as Director of Project Utopia. But now Thetis had become a victim of Phillipa Lavielle's attempt to consolidate power and found herself exiled to Aeon's New York branch.

And so, when confronting Thetis about the attempt on David Flynn, Justin was surprised that Thetis had offered him a truce of sorts in exchange for his assistance in taking care of an obviously power-hungry Phillipa Lavielle. Though he took the offer, Justin was no fool. He only accepted the offer because he knew it was only a matter of time before Phillipa decided that people like him might become a liability to whatever agenda she had planned. He also knew that Thetis, after Lavielle was dealt with, would turn on him when the threat to her own powerbase was gone.

_Oh what a tangled web we weave._

Justin pushed that thought aside as he prepared himself for the speech he was about to give here at the UN building. He hadn't planned on addressing the General Assembly about the incident with Flynn, but his involvement in other matters on an international scale like Mexico City and the revealing of a child sex trade ring involving Utopia officials made it impossible to simply let Utopia's spin doctors handle it.

An aide tapped on the door of the office he was using. "Mr. Laragione," the young woman said, "they are waiting."

"Thank you, Patricia," he said, taking the small data-pad she handed him. "Inform the Secretary General that I'll be there in a couple minutes."

The aide nodded and left the room while Justin thumbed through the contents on the data-pad, he didn't bother going over the speech because he already memorized it. Instead, he went though the latest news updates and noticed that a lot of things were happening in Metroville, California. In addition to the capture of the shooter behind the attempt on David Flynn's life, the local police department had captured the nova mercenary known as Bomber a day earlier.

_Well, Thetis and crew will probably enjoy taking Renard into their custody. As for the shooter, I hope that idiot Kent doesn't fuck it up. We were barely able to claim jurisdiction as it is and now I hear PRIMUS is threatening to get involved. We need to know how he got that equipment and if anyone was involved._

Justin didn't know much about Jefferson Kent, but he knew the man was linked to Thetis' Proteus group and, when Laragione had talked to him this morning, the man seemed more than eager to, in his own words, "give that upstart Flynn and the NSA a taste of their own medicine".

_Lansing_ _tried that and look where it got him._

He shook his head and exited the office, thumbing through the data-pad some more as he walked through a couple corridors and past a few checkpoints that would lead him to side entrance to the main stage of the Assembly Pavilion. Various news articles off the net cited evidence that Utopia had used their Sci-Tech division to confiscate technology developed by individual scientists and marketing it as their own. Justin had to grudgingly admit that were a couple cases where that was true, especially when the scientists involved with those particular projects were planning to use that technology in destructive ways or selling it to terrorist organizations.

_But how many cases are there that I don't know about?_

That thought continued to bother him as he approached the entrance to the stage. He nodded at the security guard, then stood and waited as Secretary-General Javier Montrose finished his speech, ending it with the same old theme of it being the duty of "every nation assembled here to make the world a better place."

_Nice sentiment, Javier, but why keep repeating it when you know half the nations in this room would love to kill each other? Hell, the Iranian and the Palestinian ambassadors look like they want to pull out some weapons and kill the Israeli representative who looks like wants to pull out an assault rifle and gun them down._

Though he realized it was a conceited thought, Justin was certain that the world would be a darker place if Utopia had not been formed. He wondered how many more wars would have happened and how many nations would be ruined if his organization wasn't around. A large number of UN members saw Utopia as a blessing, but majority of the developed nations saw Utopia as a threat against their own nation's well being.

_And if they knew about what Proteus, I suspect countries like the United States and China would be screaming for an investigation and appointing an oversight committee._

He smiled grimly at that thought.

_Imagine that, China and the United States banding together against a common threat. No…we certainly cannot have THAT happen…ever._

"And now," the Secretary General was saying, "I turn the podium over to the Director of Project Utopia, Justin Laragione."

Justin nodded at the Secretary General and paused for a moment to shake the man's hand when he stepped on to the stage, then he walked up to the podium and placed his data-pad on it. Behind him, the massive video screen briefly displayed the Project Utopia logo before fading in to live camera feed of him standing at the podium. He generally preferred not to have his image played on the big screen like that because it reminded him too much of "Big Brother" from George Orwell's _1984._ However, this footage was being beamed out live to all news outlets around the world and, despite his objection, someone decided it should be played on the big screen as well. He also didn't want to think about the various large LED screens in various places around the world, like the one in Times Square or the others on various commercial buildings around the world.

"Good afternoon," he said, "it has come to our attention that some serious charges have been leveled against Project Utopia in recent days and I understand that some members of this gathered body are concerned about those charges."

_Understatement of the year,_ he thought to himself, but he kept his composure and continued to speak.

"As some of you are aware, some individuals in our organization were involved in a horrible crime and have since been relieved of their duties and are awaiting trial. Be assured that we are conducting a thorough investigation and those involved will be tried fairly in a court of law."

He glanced in the direction of the US and German representatives and noted that there was more than a healthy dose of skepticism in their facial expressions.

"As to the charges that Utopia as unfairly confiscated technology and then marketed as their own, I can assure you that I was unaware of most of these cases that have been cited. As you know, the UN authorized us to take technology that was deemed dangerous and we take that duty seriously. And, should we develop any advances or refinements of that technology, I can assure you that it was done safely and the individuals we had taken the technology from had been compensated in one way or another."

He noticed that some of the UN delegates were starting to whisper amongst each other while others were looking at data-pads similar to the one he had on his podium.

"And finally," he continued, "regarding the incident in Metroville, California, I can assure you that Project Utopia was…not involved in…" He stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed more delegates were murmuring amongst each other, some of them pointing his direction.

_What the hell is going on?_

"Wow," he heard a voice say behind him, magnified by the building's state of the art sound system, that's a pretty exquisite load of manure you're shoveling there, Director Laragione." Justin turned and saw David Flynn's face on the big screen. Though he was giving the camera a toothy grin, Justin could see a malicious gleam in the boy's eyes that was anything but humorous.

"Flynn," he managed to gasp, "how did you…"

"It's called hacking, Mr. Laragione," David Flynn said, cutting the man off, "but I don't need to tell you that and I don't have much time. Ladies and Gentlemen of the United Nations, I'm sure most of you know me and I'm certain that the pro-Utopia sycophants among you already have a negative view of me. Well, you know what, I don't care. Some of you see me as my father's heir and view me as a threat. I can assure you I'm not, but I will fight back against those who target me and those I care about.

"Mr. Laragione, your people have come after me twice now, the most recent attempt has a close friend of mine fighting for her life." The expression on his face darkened and became more somber. "I had been content with playing the arrogant punk, bashing your little attempt at the whole 'one-world order' game and it was fun for a bit, but the time for games is over."

Justin glanced down at his data-pad and noticed that David Flynn's image was there too.

_Good lord, he's hacked the feed…that means he's going worldwide!_

David Flynn paused for a moment then looked out from the screen as if he were actually looking at the assembled UN body of representatives. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the United Nations," he said again, "I assure you my intentions are not hostile though I'll be honest in my opinion when I say that I believe your whole organization is joke, but that doesn't matter. What does matter, however, is that some of you are going to get some very startling data that you might find useful. The rest of you might find it interesting as well; though I'm sure the sycophants among you will say that the information is false. Then again, in your eyes, your masters can do no wrong, right? Well, let's see what happens when you see what your masters have been up to."

Then the screen suddenly went dark, followed by a flickering of the lights in the building before they too went dark. Then the power through the entire UN building went out, leaving all the occupants inside momentarily in the dark.

Justin stood there at the podium and he could hear the confusion coming from the crowd inside as the emergency lighting kicked on. However, his own confusion paled in the sense of dread that started to form in the pit of his stomach. He always prided himself on reading people, and the expressions on Flynn's face told him that the kid was about to do something that would hurt Utopia. What horrified Justin even more was the fact that he had no idea what Flynn was up to. He noticed his data-pad blinking at him, informing him of some news alerts that were just popping up on the web. Though the N!Channel site had nothing, he saw something pop up on Yahoo!News. He reached over and tapped that that icon, bringing up the article and he almost choked at when he saw the headline.

UTOPIA MOLES IN KEY GOVERNMENT AGENCIES DISCOVERED

Then the lights came back on, power restored to the facility. He wasn't sure why, but Justin found himself returning his attention to the large video screen which also came back on line. However, there was no image, no pictures…just a simple black field with several lines of white text appearing.

_**Joshua Harper….Central Intelligence Agency, USA, current location: Langley Data Vault**_

_**Eli Weissman…Mossad, Israel, current location: Berlin, Germany**_

_**Colonel Chin Ji-Jiang…People's Army, China, current location: Hong Kong**_

_**Lisa Morrigan…MI6, Great Britain, current location: Liverpool, England**_

Justin's eyes widened in horror at what he was reading; he knew those names, along with the several others being listed after them.

David Flynn had just outed over a dozen deep cover agents that had infiltrated key intelligence networks around the world.

* * *

**_Metroville California_**

**_Syndrome Software & Technology_**

Standing in front of a video camera in the lobby of the SST building and surrounded by several people tapping away on their lap-tops or computer terminals, David bowed his head slightly, eyes closed as he terminated the last few connections on the net. "And we are clear," he said. In response, everyone cheered, some people high-fiving each other. He nodded and smiled. "Well done, everyone," he said.

Zoe came up and hugged him while Shiro walked by and lightly slapped him on the back. "That was awesome, David," Zoe said before she kissed him and dashed off to get a drink.

"Couldn't have done it without you people," David said. "Hey, Shiro, tell the H-Cove people thanks and inform them that I'll have a present for them next week."

"You got it, bossman."

David laughed...then stopped for a moment when he felt a sharp pain behind his eyes. "Ow," he said, stumbling a couple feet after being caught off guard by the sudden migraine that was assaulting him. He felt something drip out of his nose and run down his lips. He brought up his fingers to wipe it away and was surprised to see blood on them. "Oh shit," he said to no one particular, "that's not good."

Then the world seemed to spin around him for a moment before suddenly going black as he dropped to the floor unconscious.


	28. Interlude I

__Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (even though they've abandoned it). Don't own The Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar do (and I'm really glad they don't read this stuff over here or they'd be screaming "HERETIC!" and burn me at the stake...no, not really, but I doubt they'd like what I've done with their creation).

Author's Notes: Just a short little blurb...I think you can guess who the two primary talkers are. Also, I want to thank the people at for their fan made supplement "Aberrant: A Breed Apart". Yes, I took and tweaked the conversation from the front page to use in the "audio clip" in this chapter. Since it was made to be used by people in a fictional fan setting, I don't think I violated any copyright laws using it (especially since this is all for entertainment purposes to begin with and no profit was made). Besides, it meshes well with one of the sub-plots in my story so I couldn't resist using it. I was originally going to use this as the opening for the next chapter, but it doesn't fit with what I've planned for that and functions more like an "interlude" piece.

Hope you're not pissed off by this. Like I said...this is kind of a "blurb"...sort of a teaser.

* * *

_**...establishing remote cellular connection...**_

_**...initialializing encryption...**_

_**...link established...**_

_**...ringing...**_

Voice 1: "Yes?"

Voice 2: "It's me, look I know I'm not supposed to call again so soon, but something has happened."

Voice 1: "Bloody understatement, mate. I take it you were involved in that?"

Voice 2: "How could I not be? For someone who's not part of the cause, Flynn's war with Utopia has done more to help us."

Voice 1: "So why are you calling me? If you're looking for compliments and accolades, talk to the Count or Santiago...they seem to be the ones currently running the show."

Voice 2: "Yeah, with Apostle, Zia, and Confederate trying to claw their way into the power structure since Mal dissapeared and you left, it's like everyone is scrambling to be the top guy. It's seriously fucked up. You really shouldn't have left, man."

Voice 1: "I'd just be another unstable element added to the mix. Besides, we had this discussion, the world believes I perished in Mexico City and I think it should remain that way until I confront this Gabriel."

Voice 2: "Dude...I don't know why you're obsessing over this guy. He's got some high-tech, yeah...but what's the big deal?"

Voice 1: "This is not just some crazed member of a hate group I'm dealing with. I got the impression he's planning something and he's using the Michaelites as a front."

Voice 2: "You sure about this?"

Voice 1: "Very. He didn't care if he was killing novas or baselines. He also referred to them as 'monkeys'. I don't think a baseline would refer to his fellow normals like that."

Voice 2: "Wait...you're saying he might be a nova?"

Voice 1: "Oh, I'm certain of it...but that's not why you're contacting me, is it?"

Voice 2: "No...it's about Flynn...he's offline."

Voice 1: "So? Given his abilities...he's probably takin' a breather."

Voice 2: "No...you don't get it. He's never offline, even when he's 'inactive'. His power has him constantly linked to the net or anything electronic, even when he's sleeping. He literally has mentally constructed firewalls around him when he goes to sleep. In cyberspace, it's like he becomes surrounded an encased in a big black dark monolith like you see in that old 'Space Odyssey 2001' movie that nothing can penetrate. Then it dissipates when he wakes up."

Voice 1: "Get to the point, Synapse."

Voice 2: "It's not there, man."

Voice 1: "Okay..so he's drained to the point he doesn't have protection."

Voice 2: "You're still not getting it. The monolith isn't there and neither is he! And the traffic I'm getting from some of the Aeon affiliated sites he hit, he tore through some very powerful firewall and anti-intrusion measures to do it. He managed to pull something out and throw it at me before he went offline."

(silence)

Voice 1: "Flynn hacked more than just agent names, didn't he? Because he was conscious when he revealed those names. What did he find?"

Voice 2: "..."

Voice 1: "Synapse? What's going on? You are an obnoxious prick, but I've never heard you panic before. Talk to me."

Voice 2: "This is...this is scary shit, big guy. Whatever Flynn hit to get this stuff, I think it fucked him up. Given what was in the file he gave me, this serious shit. I'm uploading everything to you now, but I want you to listen to this.

* * *

{*Begin Audio Clip*}

**First Voice (French accent): For our next item of business, it appears that we have yet another nova-related problem to address. The author of the report on this development will now give us a brief overview of the situation. Feel free to ask questions afterwards.**

**Second Voice (northeast United States accent): As you all have seen in my report, we have uncovered evidence of a number of novas living incognito among the general human population. As these hidden novas seem intent on living ordinary lives and depriving the world at large of the benefits of their nova capabilities, we would already need to uncover them simply due to our increasing need for nova personnel. Unfortunately, these novas pose a greater threat. Due to the fact that they have never received treatment at a Rashoud clinic or from a Utopian Intervention Team, these novas are not only fertile but have managed to pair off with each other and produce nova children.**

**Third Voice (western United States accent): So how is this different from the super-powered beings from previous generations having children? They pose no threat to us, some of those children have even joined our cause.**

**Second Voice: The population of the previous generation of supers was greatly reduced due to actions taken by certain rogue elements in our order almost a decade ago. However, this new breed of super-powered beings, these novas pose a threat, particularly any progeny they might produce.**

**Third Voice: I agree that we need all the novas we can get our hands on, but are you seriously suggesting that novas living quietly out in suburbia and having kids are a threat to our plans?**

**Second Voice: Exactly. If you'll refer to the Bahrain lab reports, we have strong evidence to suspect that the offspring of "breeder nova" couples have the potential to outstrip their parents in terms of their quantum capabilities. Our extrapolations predict that once they mature, these "second generation" novas could easily grow to match the level of power exhibited by Divis Mal. One Mal is enough of a threat to Aeon's plans for humanity's betterment. With fifty to a hundred more novas of his caliber around the world, we are faced with the potential to derail those plans entirely.**

**Fourth Voice (faint midwestern United States accent): So you would have our operatives hunt down these families, simply for their potential to thwart the plans of the Aeon Society? Wouldn't simply leaving these "breeder novas" and their children alone be more effective in ameliorating whatever threat they might pose? If we follow the course of action you have proposed, we will be making both parents and children into enemies of Project Utopia and Aeon.**

**Fifth Voice (Korean accent): This is clearly a case where the needs of humanity as a whole must take precedence over the selfish desires of a relatively small number of individuals. We cannot afford not to take this opportunity.**

**Fourth Voice: Need I remind you that the only reason that Project Utopia has worked well so far is that their novas joined it of their own free will? What we're talking about here is a program of mandatory conscription, and it will surely result in increased nova resentment of Utopia. If we pursue this course of action, it will eventually blow up in our faces, quite possibly in a literal sense.**

**Sixth Voice (Brazilian accent): Forgive me for interrupting, but I see no reasonable alternatives to the course of action outlined in this report. If we fail to exploit the powers of these novas for the sake of all humanity, all of our previous efforts are likely to be wasted. Also, I agree that the education of these "second generation" nova offspring cannot be left to chance. If we can raise them to be loyal to Aeon, we could gain the upper hand over Mal and his Teragen. If we leave them be, that just leaves them open for recruitment by unsavory elements like the Teragen or the organized crime families. (Brief pause.) I assume that you have appropriate recruitment strategies worked out for these child novas?**

**Second Voice: Yes, if such children do prove to be tractable. I suggest that Project Utopia's Nova Medicine section be given initial responsibility for that operation, if it does become viable.**

**Third Voice: I second that, with the condition that we don't break up these families except in cases where the parents are criminals or otherwise threats to their children.**

**Second Voice: (Brief pause.) I have no objection to that.**

**First Voice: Very well. As we seem to have no other questions, we shall now take a vote on whether to implement the plan in question. (Brief pause.) We have ten "yeas", and two "nays"; the plan is approved. You may begin immediately.**

**Second Voice: Thank you.**

{*End Audio Clip*}

* * *

(silence)

Voice 2: "The time index on this thing was from almost a year ago."

Voice 1: "..."

Voice 2: "Big guy...you there?"

Voice 1: "You're right, this changes things."

Voice 2: "Whoever Flynn took this from...they know he got it and they unleashed something, some sort of antiviral program I had never seen before. He shot the data packet to me and told me to clear out first. It nailed him as he tried to disconnect from their server. Then he went down and I lost his signature."

Voice 1: "You think it might have killed him? No offense, but I thought that only happened in science fiction or comic books."

Voice 2: "Dude, we're super powered and evolved beings in an unstable world with technology that has jumped forward a few decades in the last couple years alone."

Voice 1: "Point taken. I'll take a look at the data packet. In the meantime, do not contact me again until it's safe. I don't even want to think how much risk we're taking talking like this."

Voice 2: "Had to be done, man."

Voice 1: "Agreed. I will contact you and the others once I've gone over this. Oh, and Synapse, tell Santiago and Scripture, but leave the others out of the loop for now."

Voice 2: "Why?"

Voice 1: "Because you know people like Zia, Confederate, and Apostle would fuck things up by trying to take action. We need to keep a low profile about this and organize."

Voice 2: "Whoa...since when did you, of all people, worry about organizing and planning something?"

Voice 1: "The moment I woke up in time to see the creature come out of the abyss and almost eat me."

Voice 2: "Huh!"

Voice 1: "Never mind...I'll be in touch."

_**...link terminated...**_


	29. No More Games II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar does.

Author's Notes: Okay...this is going to be some weird shit over the next few chapters. We've hit the flashpoint and a lot of shit is going to start exploding. "No More Games" is where the explosions go off. I hope this turns out to be the crazy ride I'm planning it to be. As usual, thanks to everybody who has stuck with me (even the person in Russia who seems to hit this fic almost immediately whenever I update).

Also, I want to thank Randomguy for his annoying but catchy Goblin Bloggin' tune and for not threatening to kill me for ripping it off for the Bomber's Bay segment. If none of you have heard of itsjustsomerandomguy on Youtube, check him out. His videos are hilarious.

* * *

_"The world was shocked only hours ago as rogue businessman and nova hacker, David Flynn, breached the firewalls protecting the computer networks of the UN General Assembly and released a list of names that were allegedly spies working for Project Utopia who worked for various government agencies as well as members of the armed forces. Though there has been no official comment from Director Laragione, a Utopia representative has assured that the accusations are false and that legal action is now pending against David Flynn and his asociates at SST."_

_-N!Channel News_

"_Almost two hours after a dramatic confrontation at the UN, government agencies around the world are scrambling to locate possible Utopia agents who had infiltrated their organization. There has been confirmation that evidence provided by David Flynn has been verified as authentic and one nova agent working with the United States Marine Corps has been arrested for conspiring to assassinate a high ranking General who opposed Utopia policies."_

_-Fox News_

"_Brandi Miller, former talk-show host and Utopia supporter, was found dead in her hotel room this morning. Though the cause of death has not been confirmed, evidence found at the scene indicates that heavy drug and alcohol use were involved. In other news today, City Councilman Lucius Best's approval ratings have risen, ranking him at forty-three percent in the polls against incumbent Sansweet's forty-four percent with thirteen percent undecided..."_

_-KMET News_

* * *

_**Metroville, California**_

_**1500 HRS PST**_

Jefferson Kent was not having a good day. When he was appointed Director of International Operations for Project Utopia a couple weeks prior, he set about cleaning up the mess his predecessor had left behind. Granted, it wasn't very hard to clean up Lansing's mess because most of the personnel in International Operations knew their boss botched the job and went out of their way to make sure they were doing their jobs well enough to keep the new boss from coming down on them.

Not that it really mattered, Kent came down on them anyway, firing some of them, transferring others to lesser departments, all just to make the point that he was in charge and he was not going to screw things up like Lansing did. He also wanted to succeed where Lansing had apparently failed. He wanted to take down David Flynn but, unlike Lansing, he wasn't going to be an idiot and go after the kid guns blazing. He wanted to systematically destroy the little shit piece by piece.

So when the call came out that they were to take custody of the shooter who had tried to assassinate Flynn, Kent personally headed the task force sent to bring the man in knowing full well that it would piss Flynn (and that NSA vulture Richard Dicker) off to no end.

And it was beautiful too. Showing up right before Flynn did, preventing him from seeing the prisoner again or examining the Utopia equipment that was used in the alleged attack. Jefferson kept a smug grin in place the whole time but, inwardly, he was laughing maniacally at the fact that David Flynn, despite his posturing and parlor tricks, couldn't do a damn thing and neither could NSA's Dicker.

However, there was something about that final exchange that made him feel a little uneasy. He wasn't sure why, and he knew Flynn really couldn't do anything, but a tiny part of him was wondering if the little shit might try something. This time, Utopia had their asses covered and there was no way Flynn could mess with them…at least that's what Kent kept telling himself. By the time they had loaded Brian Paladino into the armored transport and he was pumped up on enough 'mox to prevent him from using his powers, Kent had dismissed Flynn as a threat and had his crew head over to their next destination.

When they arrived at the Metroville Police Department, however, Kent got his first true taste of what it was like to deal with David Flynn. They had just cleared the gate leading to the detention center, where they were to take the nova mercenary Bomber into custody, when everyone's cell-phone went off, alerting them that something major happened. After a phone call from one of his panicked subordinates, Kent turned on the radio in hopes to get a news broadcast.

What he heard had him swearing uncontrollably. Apparently, Flynn had hacked Utopia and released almost two dozen names of Utopia operatives that had infiltrated various military and law enforcement organizations around the world. After checking in with his superiors at the Aeon Society, Kent silently promised himself that he would be part of the team that would tear David Flynn's little corporate empire apart and ship that sorry little bastard and his band off to the facility in Bahrain.

_How can this little shit be so much trouble?_

In hindsight, however, Kent had to admit he had underestimated Flynn despite the warnings he received from his associates within the Proteus Council. He couldn't believe that Thetis would let something like this run loose in the world. But, alas, he was not a member of the Council leadership. He was merely a soldier following orders. So he shoved aside the latest incident involving Flynn and focused on his current objective, picking up the nova mercenary called Bomber from the Metroville Police Department. A half hour after their arrival, they finished the final preparations for the prisoner transfer.

Though he noted that there seemed to be a sense of relief on the faces of most of the police officers there, Kent noticed some veiled hostility as well. While the local police were happy about Bomber being taken off their hands, it was clear they didn't like Utopia's presence. After dealing with one annoying Detective Daniel O'Reilly (whose career Kent intended on destroying once he got back in his office at New York), Bomber was led out, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, manacles, and ankle chains.

However, for someone who was being transferred to a high-security facility, Jean-Paul Renard appeared very cheerful. When he saw Kent, his lips broke into a grin and he nodded. "Hi there," he said, almost as if he were talking about the weather. "You must be the foul and vile One-World Order guys come to whisk off to some dark place."

Kent heard some snickers and stifled laughter from some of the nearby police officers, but he ignored them. After all, they were just local law enforcement, not really important. "Cute, Mr. Renard," he said as he stepped in front of the prisoner to look him in the eye, "too bad it won't play well where you're going."

Renard rolled his eyes. "Let me guess," he said, "you're going to put me in some dark hole in a certain middle-eastern country at an installation that you publicly deny exists, right?"

Kent smiled coldly at the nova mercenary. "Pretty much," he replied. "I will enjoy interrogating you and breaking you."

"Sorry, but I don't do S&M sessions with guys," Renard said, causing some more police officers to laugh. "I mean, I know I'm French Canadian, but I really don't fit the stereotype."

"Shut it, Renard," grumbled Stalwart who was standing a few feet behind Kent. "Or I'll break your jaw."

"Yeah, right, beat the hell out of a guy while he's tied up." Renard's eyes narrowed and his grin became a cold and calculating sneer. "Then again, that's about your speed. You, Gravity, and some Utopia team tried to kidnap some teenage girl not too long ago and, before that, you killed that kid for not wanting to join up."

"You son of a bitch!" Stalwart started to move forward, but Kent held up his hand, signaling the larger nova to stop.

"Don't do it," Kent said, "he's trying to rile you up and start a fight to cause confusion so he can attempt to escape."

"Awww, damn," Renard groaned, "and I would have gotten away with it to if it weren't for you meddling bureaucrats and your stupid dog." He then leaned forward, lowering his voice a little. "You did remember to have Stalwart taken in and fixed, right?"

Kent glared Renard for a moment; then he addressed the guards flanking him. "Get that piece of trash on the transport," he said. "If he tries anything, shoot him repeatedly until he stops moving. When he starts moving again, resume shooting."

"So he's officially your problem, then?" asked Detective O'Reilly as the guards escorted Renard into the armored transport.

"Yes, Detective, he is now officially our problem and you can go about your business."

"Wow," O'Reilly snorted, "you Utopia types really are that stuck up and arrogant."

"Careful, Detective," Kent warned the man, "I can have you demoted to a beat cop within twelve hours."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," O'Reilly fired back, "but you seem to be forgetting one thing."

"And what might that be, Detective? Please wow me with your skills of observation and deduction."

"Two things, actually," the Detective said, gesturing at the transport. "First, Bomber there could have killed me and my men at any time and made his escape."

"I think you're exaggerating his abilities, Detective. I am well aware of what Renard is capable of."

O'Reilly shrugged. "Okay, if you're certain of it, then maybe I'm wrong about the second thing."

"And what, pray tell, was the second thing?"

O'Reilly met Kent's condescending smile with a predatory grin of his own. "Bomber may have a problem killing cops, but I don't think he feels the same way about you Utopia people." He shrugged as he watched the smile fade a little on Kent's face. "Just something to think about," he said. "After all, if he can face off against someone like Totentanz, do really think this little security detail and your two second-string novas will stop him?"

"That will be all, Detective," Jefferson snapped. He turned and walked back to the front cab of the transport. As he climbed into the passenger side, he saw Detective O'Reilly waving at him, a smug grin on his face.

_Oh yes, _Kent thought, _I am looking forward to destroying your career when I get home._

But first, he had to assess what kind of damage Flynn had done with his latest hack. Already, various news networks were pushing the story and key politicians from various nations were demanding an investigation into Utopia's activities. He looked over at the driver and nodded. "Take us straight to the airport," he said, "the sooner we get rid of these two bastards, the better."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Jean-Paul Renard smiled as he sat down on the bench on one side of the transport, acting oblivious to the two heavily guards sitting on either side of him. It wouldn't take much to take out the guards, but they were a secondary concern. Even though the Utopian officials dosed him with the power-dampening cocktail known a 'mox, Bomber knew his body had already burned it off by the time he stepped onto the transport.

He could have escaped at anytime, actually; but after learning he was going to be picked up by the same transport carrying the guy that shot Violet, Jean decided to hold off on the escape as he confronted the shooter and, hopefully, beat the man to the death with whatever tools were available. So when he sat down, he gave the man sitting across from him flanked by two guards of his own a smile.

"Hi," he said, "I'm Bomber."

"Shut up, Renard," snapped one of the guards.

Jean rolled his eyes before looking back at the man who stared at him with cold dead eyes.

"I know who you are," the other prisoner replied. "At least I know they're taking some pathetic piece of trash like you in as well."

"Can it, Paladino," one of the other guards said.

"Paladino," Jean repeated the name. He recognized that name. "Where have I heard that name before...Paladino...Paladino...oh yeah!" He nodded as he remembered it. "Simon Paladino...Gazerbeam...you must be one of his brats." He chuckled as he saw the other man's eyes narrow at the mention of the dead hero's name. "Your father...he was a good man...what happened to you?"

"Shut up," the Paladino kid snapped, "or I'll-"

"You'll what," Jean snorted, cutting him off, "kill me?" He shook his head. "Not gonna' happen, poser. And I'll give you a few reasons. One, we're surrounded by several Utopia guards. Two, we're both doped up on enough 'mox to shut down our powers. Three, we have two Utopia novas in vehicles escorting us who can take us down...or believe they can take me down. And finally, the most important reason you're not going to kill me," Jean gave Paladino an evil grin, "I'm not some defenseless hot twenty year old babe you can pick off with a sniper rifle."

"That's enough, Renard." One of the guards raised his weapon.

Jean ignored the threat and focused on Paladino whose face was starting to turn red.

_Really doesn't take much to set this guy off, does it? Good._

"So, what's the deal, boy?" Jean asked. "You woke up one morning and decided, 'Hey, I think I'll shoot some hot babe for shits and grins because I feel like destroying her promising life and hurting her family'."

"Renard!" The guard next to Jean had his pistol out and pointed it at his chest. "I'm warning you...knock if off."

"I wasn't aiming for her!"

"Chill, Paladino!" warned another guard.

Jean smiled, he knew he had the other man at his breaking point. "Oh, you weren't," he said, "guess that's another reason you won't kill me...your aim sucks. Shot an innocent girl instead of your target."

"FUCK YOU!" Paladino screamed and lunged forward, causing all the guards to train their weapons on him.

Jean took the moment to act and swung his manacled hands up, planning to catch the guard on his right in the face plate. Then the world seemed to explode around him as everything seemed to be thrown upside down.

* * *

_(*Screen flickers to reveal the customized Bomber figure, this time wearing an orange prison jumpsuit dancing across the screen via stop-motion animation while the terrible voice that sounds like someone has been gargling razor blades begins to sing*)_

_"Where in the world has Bomber gone and when in holy hell will there be another blog?"_

_(*screen suddenly flickers back out before cutting to a live video stream showing a familiar young man with dark hair grinning at the camera. He's apparently standing on top of a high-rise building*)_

_"Hey everybody, it's me again. Nick aka Slapstick…Bomber's best friend, occasional enemy, rival, and bowling teammate. And welcome to a special edition of Bomber's Bay. I'm sure most of you people have been following the news and noticed that Jean recently became a guest of the Metroville Police Department after he apparently stumbled into a bank robbery being carried out by novas. Don't know who those bastards are, but I understand he did kill one of them who was identified as the nova monster called 'Gator' who supposedly had a reputation of killing cops."_

_*Screen briefly cuts to a picture of Gator with the caption "COPKILLER!" at the base of the picture along with the Godzilla roar in the background*_

_"However, according to various reports, Gator was taken out via crotch-bombing. So…Gator…rest in pieces."_

_*cuts to a picture showing pictures of alligator skin boots, bags, and gloves. Then it cuts back to Slapstick*_

_"Anyway…Gator's dead, the cops arrested Jean, and now it looks like Utopia has come to take him into custody."_

_*Cuts to show the Utopia logo and the Imperial Death March theme from Star Wars begins to play for a couple seconds before cutting back to Slapstick again who is now holding the camera in his hand, but still looking into it.*_

_"Now…as you know, I'm a mercenary, as is Jean. Some of us Elites don't mind killing…hell, it's expected. However, people like Jean, he only kills when he has to and isn't big in the whole assassination thing. Me, I'll kill my own grandmother if someone offered me enough money."_

_*cuts to show a cartoon caricature of a mean old lady with a shot gun in one hand and a cane in the other with the caption "Slapstick's Grandmother" at the bottom of the picture (along with the Godzilla roar in the background). Cuts back to Slapstick involuntarily shuddering*_

_"She was evil…evil…she made me run with the pitbulls, telling me it was the best way to lose weight…running for my life…a chubby seven year old covered in barbecue sauce, made to run from one end of the yard to the other…"_

_*He suddenly shakes his head, snapping out of his self-inflicted flash back*_

_"Okay…bad memory. Anyway…back to the current matter at hand. As I was saying, Jean and I have different approaches to killing but both of us, well…him mostly, try to avoid killing local cops. After all, these guys gotta' have balls to go out in today's world to go after criminals with shitty gear and receive an even shittier paycheck. That takes guts man…and a lot of stupidity…but still, it takes guts. Jean prefers not to kill cops. Me, I don't mind killing cops, but if you kill too many, ALL the brothers in blue will band together around the country and even across a few international borders. In small doses, they're a joke, but you never know what kind of ordinance they might be able to get access to if you piss them off enough. One heavy SMG with a grenade launcher is no big deal. But get surrounded by fifty heavy SMGs with AP rounds and grenade launchers getting you all at once…nova or not, there's a good chance you won't be coming back from that."_

_(*Briefly cuts to footage of the nova known as Mauler getting gunned down by a SWAT team…and then nailed with several flame throwers before several grenades are thrown in, blowing up the nova*)_

_"And for the record, recovering from napalm burns fucking sucks! So…yeah, killing cops is definitely not on the 'to do' list…unless it's those corrupt bastards in Rio, but that's another story."_

_(*Camera shifts angles as Slapstick moves out of the picture and mounts the camera on something…then the caption "Slapstick's Shoulder Cam" briefly flashes across the screen*)_

_"As you can see, we have the Utopia transport off in the distance leaving the local police department. They have their little escort vehicles, a few black SUVs with tinted windows…how much you wanna' bet that their those or the transport are using alternative fuel sources? Oh…sorry…getting off track here. Anyway…I'm going to take this rocket launcher here…"_

_*camera pans over as Slapstick's arms pick up a rocket launcher which is then pointed in the direction of the small caravan of vehicles*_

_"And then we line it up…like so…and I take a soft breath and slowly exhale as I prepare to revel in the explosion and slaughter….and then I pull the tri- "_

_*A beam of light hits the side of the lead SUV, slicing it in half before igniting the fuel lines, causing an explosion. Slapstick lowers the rocket launcher which he hasn't fired yet*_

_"Uh…what…the…fuck?"_

_*The prison transport is suddenly thrown up in the air by an invisible force, flipping upside down, before it goes crashing into the the side of an office building.*_

_"No...seriously, what the fuck just happened?"_


	30. No More Games III

_Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (though I would buy the right from them if I won the Lotto). Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird (couldn't by the rights even if I won the MEGA-MILLIONS). Champions is owned by...well...someone...not sure who owns that RPG but it sure as hell isn't me.  
_

_Author's Notes: Okay...yet another update. Not too thrilled with this...but I've been kind of tired and exhausted from work and the holidays. Anyway, as you can see, I'm weaving some elements of the old-school Champions RPG (not the dumbed down computer game version) though I am tweaking some things to make it fit._

_As always, just want to say thanks to all those poor souls who still stick around and read my crazy writing...and yeah, that also includes that crazy guy (or girl) from Russia who seems to read this the moment I post (at least that's what the traffic report says)._

_And as usual, thanks to the Plothook crew who provided a lot of help and ideas. I know it's been awhile, but it's kept me going._

_And...of course...reviews, comments, and the occasional death threat is welcome (okay...maybe not the death threat)._

_Oh...and Downery, if you happen to have stumbled over here from TTH...do me a favor and don't post anything._

* * *

_To: Director Robert Kauffman, PRIMUS_

_From: Senator Arlen Kinsey, US Senator, Massachusetts_

_Robert,_

_I have been in contact with our associates at the Institute and, while they publicly condemn the actions of the Church of Michael, they have been covertly communicating with Micah Piper and are hoping to get more on this "Gabriel". In the meantime, congress is divided amongst itself, the two primary factions being those for Utopia and those against it. However, I have been able to sway some of the latter faction to join our American First Initiative._

_Also, in regards to David Flynn and the situation in Metroville, we have a unique opportunity. While David Flynn and his crew are novas and, by default, the enemy, it is no secret they oppose Utopia. I would suggest that we leave Flynn alone to deal with the Utopia presence in that area. Eventually, there will be a victor among those two, but it has been determined that whoever is left standing will not have the strength to stand against us when we move against them._

_But until then, I suggest a "hands off" approach to Flynn. In fact, I am even willing to suggest that you publicly commend or praise Flynn for his actions since he seems to be a favorite among the younger generations of America. He may be the enemy in the long run, but right now, he makes a useful asset that we can exploit in our favor._

_-Encrytped Communique_

* * *

_**1 November 2006**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**1522 PST**_

Blackness…that was the first thing he was aware of.

_Okay, blackness, must have been knocked out cold again…okay, now where's the-_

Then there was a sharp pain in his side and ribcage and he realized he was struggling to breathe.

_Oh yeah…there's the pain…fuck, I think I might have ruptured a lung. No wait...hold on, it's healing up. Okay, Mr. Director, can we get some sound and a picture to this movie please?_

He could smell the faint hint of ozone, mixed with smoke and could hear soft moans along with the occasional electrical spark.

_Okay, we got sound. Get me visual. Yo! Eyes! This is your brain speaking, open up, dammit!_

Jean opened his eyes, blinking a couple times before he reached up to wipe whatever liquid and debris was on them. He then looked down at his hand and realized he was wiping blood off his face. He glanced over and saw one of the four guards in the transport laying there, his helmet face plate crushed in, blood leaking through it.

_Ewwww…not a good way to go._

He reached over to grab the key to his manacles off the guard, but stopped when he heard a clicking sound. Jean slowly turned his head and saw Paladino standing there, that cold dead look in his eyes, holding one of the Utopia guards' assault rifles.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still and Jean was already trying to calculate the odds of him escaping if he took damage disarming Paladino.

"I didn't mean to hit her," Paladino said. "She was a friend…she shouldn't have been there."

"Well," Jean said, trying his best to not imitate Tommy Lee Jones from the movie, The Fugitive, "I don't care." Obviously, he failed and winced as he saw Paladino raise the weapon to level it at him.

"Well, I do," Paladino said. Then he suddenly tossed Jean something with his free hand.

Jean caught it and realized it was the key to his manacles.

"Hurry up, we don't have much time."

Jean unlocked his restraints and then looked up at Paladino, spreading his arms out. "This is the best shot you're gonna' get at me, Paladino."

"I don't give a shit, Renard," Paladino fired back. "Whoever did this is after one or both of us."

"You got a point there," Jean admitted, glancing around for a weapon he could use, "but my enemies aren't usually the 'attack the prison transport in broad daylight' type. No…wait, I take that back, there is one idiot I know of, but he would make sure I saw it coming." He looked over at Paladino again. "They're here for you, not me."

"What makes you so sure?"

Before Jean could answer, the door to the transport started to buckle and warp a little, turning a rusty brown before crumbling. Moments later, the corroded doors fell away and Jean saw a familiar face. "Oh fuck…not you again…"

"Oh," the young red-haired woman said, blinking in surprise, "Renard…you're not supposed to be here." Then she shrugged and turned her head to the side. "Hey, Lucy, guess who's here?"

In response to the woman's question, the side of the transport was ripped away by two clawlike arms belonging to the other woman Bomber remembered from the robbery that landed him in his current predicament. "Bomber? Well…you weren't mentioned in the briefing."

"Shit," Jean groaned, "I was sooooo hoping I'd never run into you guys again."

"Well," the shape shifting woman said as her arms reformed into elongated blades, "you weren't expected either, but I don't mind a seven million dollar bonus."

Almost instinctively, both Jean and Paladino were back to back, each facing an attacker. "I thought you said they weren't here for you," Paladino muttered.

"I don't think they are," Jean replied. He knelt down and picked up a nightstick off one of the dead guards. "I'm just the bonus prize and I kind of killed half their team. Not sure who they are, but I know the shapeshifter is named Lucy.

"I know them," Paladino said, cocking the weapon. "Decay and Legion-22."

"You hear that, Luc," Decay said as she stepped forward, "Paladino knows who we are." One of the surviving guards regained consciousness and started to stir. "Oh no, Mr. Utopia Guard, you're not supposed to survive." She knelt down, punching the guard in the chest, causing him to gasp in pain before he screamed as his body started to corrode in the middle. A few seconds later, his scream turned into a choked gurgle before he crumbled into dust. Decay sighed as she stood up and looked at Paladino. "So, Paladino, here's the deal. You come with us, we kill Bomber, or we can kill you both right here."

"See," Jean smirked, "told you they weren't here for me."

"Shut up, Renard," Paladino snapped.

"You gonna' take their offer? You know, walk away and let them kill me? After all, to be honest, I was going to kill you for what you did to Vi."

"I told you before, I wasn't aiming for her." Then Paladino's anger gave way to confusion. "Wait? How do you know Violet?"

Jean smiled, but kept his attention on Legion-22 who looked like she was getting ready to strike. "You could say we go back a little ways…our families sort of traveled in the same social circle."

"Ah." Paladino nodded in understanding, not taking his eyes off Decay. "That makes sense. And to answer your question, I'm not sure I'll live long after I take their offer."

"Not very good odds then," Jean said.

"No, definitely not; so…truce for now?"

"For now."

A cold smile formed on Legion-22's lips. "Well, we gave you a chance to come with us," she said, "so I guess your corpse will do. Sheryl, make sure Paladino's head is intact." She then lunged forward, swinging her one of her bladed arms in a tight arc meant to cut Jean in half.

Jean stepped forward before suddenly dropping low, catching Legion's upper arm with the night-stick. Then he spun as he collided with her body, knocking her off balance and out of the transport where she staggered back into the lobby of the building the transport had been tossed into.

Legion rolled with the impact, and countered by swinging her left arm forward, the appendage stretching out and dividing into metallic spikes that slammed into the ground where Jean would have been standing if he hadn't jumped out of the way. "Fuck," Legion snarled as she realized her elongated finger spikes were embedded in the ground, effectively stuck until she took the time to shift, which she did, leaving her open to Jean hitting her in the side of the face with the nightstick, snapping her head to the side.

Jean was about to follow up his attack with a kick but a tendril lashed out and wrapped his arm, yanking him away and throwing him across the lobby of the building where he landed on a desk.

"Okay, that fucking hurt," Legion said as her skin took on a scaly texture while her body became more lizard-like. "I'm going to enjoy ripping you to pieces, Renard."

Meanwhile, Brian Paladino focused his attention on Decay and decided to take the best course of action, opening fire with the Utopia assault rifle, focusing on the woman's upper body and head. He knew Decay's abilities and figured it was the best way to delay her.

Decay swore, her upper body seemingly turning to a rust colored mist as the bullets hit her. Brian knew it wouldn't seriously hurt her; chances are it only made her annoyed as her body disintegrated the bullets that hit her. He figured she would have to "mist out" to handle the onslaught of bullets headed in her direction, but that would occupy her for a maybe a few seconds which left Brian little time to act, which consisted of him running like hell.

"Oh, like hell you will!" Decay screamed. A jet of rust-colored smoky substance shot out at him. Brian ducked and watched the attack hit an overturned table which rapidly aged before crumbling to pieces.

He kept running…towards where Renard was fighting it out with Legion. He had a crazy idea, but it was the only one he could think of right now.

Jean, on the other hand, yelled in pain as claws ripped across his middle, effectively gutting him. But that didn't stop him from shoving the nightstick into Legion's gaping maw as she brought her now monstrous reptilian head down to bite him open. The shapeshifter's monstrous roar suddenly became a painful squeal as she stumbled away, her hands reaching up to grab the nightstick out of her mouth as she began to reform. A couple seconds later, she had shifted out of her form as she pulled the nightstick out of her throat like a sword swallower removing a blade during a show. She held the now mucus covered nightstick in her hand, shaking her head as she coughed to clear her throat.

"You asshole," she hissed. "That wasn't cool."

Jean was about to make some snide comment when he saw Paladino running towards them with Decay close behind. So, instead, he charged her, tackling her.

"What the fu-" Legion obviously wasn't expecting such a desperate attack. She also didn't expect Brian Paladino to come up behind her, jumping high and leapfrogging over them. Then her surprise turned into a horrified scream as Jean's momentum pushed her into Decay who was still chasing Paladino.

Jean rolled aside as Legion collided with her teammate. He could hear the shapeshifter screaming as she began to disintegrate on contact with Decay.

"Lucy, no!" Decay screamed as she watched her friend crumble to dust in front of her. For a few seconds, she sat there on the ground, cradling her now dead friend's remains until they completely crumbled into dust. Then she looked up at Paladino and Jean, hatred burning in her eyes. "Okay, you fuckers are both dead!" More rusty mist began to form around her body and started to flow towards them, disintegrating everything it its path.

"Shit…move!" Jean was about to run for cover, but stopped when he saw Brian step forward and an emerald beam shot out of his eyes, impacting Decay in the stomach and throwing her backwards into a wall that started to disintegrate on contact with her body. Then the rust colored mist faded and the wall stopped crumbling as Decay looked up at them again, a surprised look on her face before her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Then the upper half of her body separated from her lower half, dropping to the ground before being joined by her legs and lower torso a couple seconds later.

"Whoa," Jean said, "I take it your powers are back."

"Yeah, kind of," Paladino replied.

Then they heard the sound of someone clapping and turned to see a large man in a black body suit and wearing a black visored helmet. "Very good," the large man said. Behind him were two more figures dressed similarly to him, a man and a woman. "Your killing of those two gets rid of some loose ends we would have had to deal with."

Jean shook his head. "Wow, you guys are stupid…coming after us with two T2M novas lurking around here somewhere."

"Oh," the large man said, gesturing to the woman with his left hand. "You mean Stalwart and Makarra?"

The woman nodded and, with a gesture of her own, levitated a decapitated body into the building before dropping it in front of Jean and Brian. Though the body was mangled, Jean recognized Stalwart's tattoos.

"While you were dealing with the loose ends, we got rid of the real threats. Makarra, if he's alive is probably more vegetable than mineral." The large man chuckled. "Hey, Velocity, how many times did you slam him into the ground out there?"

The woman shrugged as she started to float a few feet off the ground. "Oh, about eight or nine before embedding him ten feet below the subway tunnels," she replied. "And that was after you hit him with that armored car a couple times, Behemoth."

The man called Behemoth laughed and nodded. "Oh yeah…must be the rage issues I've been having."

"Or maybe it's because you love the work," the other man said, the visor on his helmet glowing a faint green. Unlike the others, his visor seemed to be made out of some sort of specialized material.

"Oh, I suppose you got a point, Tagger." Then Behemoth looked at Jean and Paladino. "Well, boys, playtime's over. No survivors and we want Paladino preferably alive."

"Preferably alive?" Jean repeated.

"Well, truth be told, we just need his head," Behemoth admitted. "Although, I suppose your corpse would make for interesting research as well, Renard."

"Oh gee, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Behemoth then glanced over at Tagger. "Something bothering you, Tag?"

Tagger seemed to be hesitant for a moment. "I don't know," he said, "It's just that this feels weird. I think this is the part where I'm supposed to experience some sort of memory flash and feel some sort of guilt for unknown and mysterious reasons." Then he shook his head as his visor began to glow even brighter. "Nah…false alarm."

Paladino shoved Jean out of the way just as the emerald beam exploded out of Tagger's visor and carved a deep hole in he ground where they were standing a moment before. The both hit the ground and kept rolling before they each got back on their feet.

* * *

_**Aeon Building**_

_**Utopia Operations Command Center**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

"Somebody please talk to me," Justin Laragione said as he entered the Operations Command Center, "and tell me what the hell just happened out there."

"Unknown, Director Laragione," replied one of the techs. "All we know is that we were trying to seal up the breaches that Flynn caused and then we got word that the convoy transporting Paladino and Renard got hit by novas."

"Have you heard from Stalwart or Makarra?"

The tech shook her head. "No, sir," she replied, "and we've lost contact with Director Kent."

_Hopefully, that bastard got himself killed._ Justin kept his expression neutral, but he didn't care much for Jefferson Kent; the man was a cold blooded reptile who enjoyed tormenting his enemies and was one of Thetis' Proteus operatives. It was Kent's idea to push ahead with taking custody of Paladino. Justin had advised Thetis and Kent that it was not a good idea but, once again, his input was ignored.

_And now we're paying the fucking price…again._

Justin closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, faintly hoping it would push away the slight headache that seemed to be plaguing him for almost the last five months since David Flynn surfaced and began causing trouble. Then there were the freak storms that ripped through the Indian Ocean, the attacks on San Francisco and Mexico City, the attempted murder of David Flynn, and Flynn's cyber attack on Utopia.

_And now someone attacked the convoy._

At first, he considered that Flynn might have been behind the attack, but Justin immediately tossed that theory away.

_David Flynn wouldn't do something like this. It's not his style and something like this was obviously planned and executed._

That's when the realization hit him.

_We have a mole…someone knew what we were sending and knew how to take them out._

The thought of a mole within Utopia wasn't anything new and they had dealt with incidents in the past, but this was different. Justin knew that almost everyone involved with picking up Paladino had ties to Proteus, with the exception of Makarra who Justin added on to the mission to serve as a brake on Stalwart.

_If we have a mole, then that means they got past Internal Affairs. That's not good._

"Can we get a visual on the situation?" he asked.

"We're accessing local law enforcement feeds and jacking into local security systems but nothing from our crew."

"Shit," Justin muttered, "that means someone knew how to take us down. Okay…someone get me Moses Miller on the line. We gotta' find out what's going on. Do we have any T2M members in the immediate area?"

"Just Firewing, but she's on injured reserve."

"Activate her and tell her to check it out."

"But sir…"

"Just do it!"

* * *

_**Metroville, California**_

"Okay, if I haven't said it yet, this fucking sucks," Jean said as he and Brian both scrambled for cover. "Who the hell are these people, Paladino?"

"You're asking me?" Brian shot back. "You're the celebrity nova with the enemies." He fired a focused beam of energy, forcing the woman called Velocity to fly out of the way. "Don't you have a 'rolodex of enemies'?"

Despite the situation, Jean laughed. "The 'rolodex' went out of style in the 90s, Paladino. Most my friends and enemies do the online thing." Another bolt of energy seared the ground nearby and they both went separate directions. "Dammit, what I wouldn't give to have my weapons with me right now," Jean said as he took cover behind the remains of another desk. "You got any ideas?"

Brian shook his head. "Not at the moment, but if we get out of the building, it's a guaranteed kill zone."

The ground began to shake slightly and then there was a loud rumbling sound as one wall of the building was ripped away. Jean looked up and saw Velocity gesturing with her arm and sending the debris flying off to the side. He could also hear screams and the sound of a multiple vehicle collisions as well. "And it's obvious these bastards don't give a shit about collateral damage, either," he said.

"You can always surrender," Behemoth called out. "But I'm kind of hoping you two bastards keep fighting. Haven't had this much fun in months."

"Y'know, I'm really starting to hate that guy," Jean quipped. He started to make his way over to one of other dead Utopia guards when he saw the body suddenly levitate off the ground. Then his eyes widened in alarm as he saw the four hand grenades on the guard's belt detach themselves followed the by their pins being pulled out by an invisible force. "OH SHIT!"

Jean dove for cover, but was caught by the blast and thrown like a rag doll out into the street. Brian managed to find cover, but was still buried under some falling debris from the explosion. "I hate that bitch more," he grumbled as he started to unbury himself.

Behemoth chuckled and shook his head at his teammate. "Vel…that was…harsh."

Velocity shrugged. "Hey, tell me that you wouldn't have done the same thing," she fired back.

"Okay, you have a point," Behemoth admitted as he started to walk over to where Jean-Paul Renard was lying in the street, trying to get up. He reached down and then picked up the nova mercenary by the throat. "Jean-Paul Renard aka 'Bomber', the self-proclaimed 'asshole of the Elite'." He shook his head and started to slowly tighten his grip, causing the other man to try to break his grip. "Pathetic…then again, maybe your fellow Elites will pay me the seven million when I drop your body parts at the front door of the bar they like to hang out at."

Then Behemoth's world exploded around him when he felt something hit him in the side before it detonated, the explosion throwing him to the ground and forcing him to drop Bomber who rolled with the impact. He could feel a burning pain in his lower abdomen as he pulled himself back to his feet. A quick glance told him that he had been hit with some exploding projectile. "Okay," he said, "someone has a death wi-"

"Yippee Ki-Yay Chimichanga with strawberry cream cheese, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Jean blinked a couple times and rubbed the debris out of his eyes when he heard a familiar voice. He looked up just in time to see his friend (or was it enemy?) Nick DeYorke land behind Behemoth and slap something on the large man's back before vanishing in a flash of yellow light to reappear next to Jean.

"You know, I thought we had a deal," Nick whined as he handed Jean a harness that had some of Jean's gear on it. "I thought I was supposed to kill you."

"Not a good time, Nick," Jean said as he pulled on his harness and pulled a couple mini-bombs off it.

Nick shrugged as another explosion threw Behemoth in the air. "Yeah, good point. So I guess we'll kill each other later, then?" He then smiled and tapped the small camera unit on his shoulder. "Oh well, at least we'll get plenty of hits."

* * *

_**Manhattan, New York**_

"Sir, we got a visual on the situation," the tech announced to Justin. "But it's not on one of our channel, it's live-stream footage."

"From where?" Justin asked.

The technician hesitated a moment before answering. "It's from the Bomber's Bay site, sir."

"Shit." Justin's headache returned in full force. If what the technician said was true, then anyone with a net connection could easily log in and see what was happening. Bomber's Bay was a 'rogue' site that Utopia had been trying to shut down for over a year when it first appeared because Jean-Paul Renard tended to post his videos online where he did things to embarrass various novas, usually fellow Elites but he would also target the occasional Utopia sanctioned nova. "Okay, bring up the site and see if we can jam it."

* * *

_{Screen momentarily flickers before revealing Slapstick grinning maniacally at the camera. In the background are two men in orange prison jumpsuits, one of them is Bomber and the other is an unknown nova firing beams out of his eyes.}_

_Slapstick: "And we are back on the air! As you can see, some shit happened to the convoy transporting Jean and…hey…Jean, who's the prison boyfriend?"_

_Bomber (throwing something at a target off camera): "Don't have time for this shit, Nick!"_

_{Camera pans sharply to the right and the muzzle of Slapsticks assault rifle can be heard as he fires several rounds at a large hulking figure dressed completely in black}_

_Slapstick: "HOLY SHIT! It's the attack of the unknown nova S&M squad! And I forgot my credit card…FIRE IN THE HOLE!"_

_{The grenade launcher on Slapstick's gun goes off, sending a projectile at the approaching nova that explodes on impact. Flames and smoke fill the screen, but Slapstick's voice can still be heard}_

_Slapstick: "Oh fuck yeah! Down goes Frasier and he is not getting up from that-"_

_{A large hand explodes through the smoke and the camera shakes as the smoke clears to reveal the damaged helmet belonging to the large nova in black. A pair of cold blue eyes, narrowed in anger can be seen through the shattered visor of the helmet)_

_Unknown Nova: "And you are going to die a very painful death!"_

_{A choked gurgle can be heard from Slapstick}_

_Slapstick: "mgnnrcrtch…"_

_Unknown Nova (chuckling): "I'm sorry, what was that?"_

_Slapstick: "My gun's…in…your…crotch."_

_BOOM!_

_{A loud scream of agony can be heard and the camera flickers slightly as it briefly shows the sky, then the ground, then some buildings, the sky again, and then settles back on showing Bomber shaking his head)_

_Bomber: "Okay, that was low."_

_Slapstick: "Hey, it stopped him didn't it?"_

_{Camera pans back to show the large Nova kneeling on the ground in pain, but starting to get back up}_

_Slapstick: "Oh shit…that's not good."_

_Unknown Nova: "I…will…kill…you."_

_Slapstick: "Not likely, asshole."_

_{There's a flash of yellow light and another rocket launcher appears in Slapstick's hands}_

_Slapstick: "Time to Hi-Frag your ass."_

_{Suddenly, a beam of green light momentarily fills the screen, and then the camera seems to jerk to the side as the rocket launcher falls out of Slapstick's hands}_

_Slapstick *wheezing slightly as he talks*: "Oh…shit. Um…Jean…I think…I have…a problem."_

* * *

_**Metroville, California**_

Jean stood there for a moment, staring at the six inch wide hole made by the beam that cored through Nick's chest. It was kind of weird, being able to see through his friend's body while his friend was still standing there.

"Nick," he said as he started to run over to his friend who dropped to the ground, the shoulder mounted camera falling off Nick's shoulder and rolling away. "Hang on man...you've had worse."

"Shit...Jean...next time...you get holed..." Nick's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head slumped back, the rest of his body going completely limp.

Behemoth, stepped forward and picked up the camera while Tagger and Velocity flanked him. "Well, it looks like Bomber's Bay is going to have a final broadcast."

Jean glanced around and noticed that Brian Paladino had vanished.

_The fucker probably bolted when he had the chance…not that I blame him. I would have done the same if I were in his shoes._

"We got a problem, 'Hemoth," Tagger said, confirming Jean's suspicion. "We lost Paladino and we got local law enforcement on the way. Mission's scrubbed."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Behemoth said as he looked down at Jean. "We kill Bomber and Slapstick, it's not a total loss."

Jean mentally ran the scenario through his head and realized Behemoth was right. With Nick down and Paladino gone, no matter how good he was, he couldn't take these three down. Then Jean realized that Behemoth was holding the camera Nick was using and recognized it as one of his own customized pieces of equipment.

_Nick…this time, I'm glad you stole and used my equipment._

Jean stood up and smiled, arms spread as if he were about to raise them in surrender. "Well, I guess you're right," he said.

"Any last words, Renard?" Behemoth asked as Tagger's visor began to glow emerald green in preparation for energy discharge.

"Yeah," Jean replied, "two of them: Terminate Transmission."

There was no warning for Behemoth or his teammates. In fact, Jean was certain that not too many people knew that he rigged his equipment to receive certain voice commands. He also was certain that these three idiots had no idea that he had his cameras rigged with tiny, but powerful explosives that he would detonate if he needed to destroy his equipment to prevent it from being taken. Crystalex-7 was a relatively new type of explosive, something he helped create, though he was certain there were others who developed similar compounds. One gram of it was as potent as a pound of C-4, but tended to be more incendiary when it went off.

The explosion actually knocked Behemoth to the ground along with his teammates while Jean rolled with the explosion and managed to get back up on his feet in time to see Behemoth rearing up off the ground, screaming in pain as he ripped the burning remains of his helmet off his head.

Jean got a look at Behemoth's face and stopped dead in his tracks. "No…way," he said, "that's not possible."

The young man with cobalt blue eyes and blond hair slowly stood back up and glared at Bomber. "What's the matter, Renard," he snarled, "see someone you know?"

"You can't be him," Jean said, recognizing the facial features. It was kind of creepy, actually, staring at a face he had only seen in news clippings his father had kept from his own exploits as super-criminal. "Who are you?"

Before Behemoth could answer, two SWAT vans and three police cruisers arrived on the scene.

"'Hemoth," Tagger yelled over the sound of the sirens, "the mission's scrubbed, we gotta' go!"

Behemoth stood there for a moment, seeming to consider his next course of action. "Another time, Renard," he finally said as he suddenly ran over and grabbed a pick-up truck which he threw in the direction of the approaching police detail. An emerald beam from Tagger impacted the vehicle's gas tank, causing it to explode and rain shrapnel over the area.

By the time everyone had recovered from the explosion, the three rogue novas had disappeared and Jean, once again, found himself surrounded by several cops carrying heavy weaponry that was pointed at him. He wasn't sure if it was out of exhaustion or amusement, but he dropped to his knees as he raised his hands over his head and laughed bitterly.

"This fucking sucks."


	31. No More Games IV

Disclaimer: Incredibles, owned by Brad Bird and Pixar. Aberrant, owned by White Wolf Media (though I would buy the rights if I could). Again, I want to thank GP from plothook for letting me use his character.

Author's Notes: I'm not too sure about this chapter. I've working a lot and fighting the flu...so forgive me for lapsing. As usual, I'll re-read this and try to correct any glaring errors. And, also, thanks to all you insane people who still read this fic. And, finally, reviews and threats are welcome. Flames will be laughed at.

* * *

_(***ringing***)_

_Voice 1: "Hello?"_

_Voice 2: "It's me. Stay calm and don't make a scene."_

_Voice 1: "What the hell were you thinking, Brian? We're getting reports over here of an attack on the Utopia convoy over here. I can't believe you had Lydia-"_

_Voice 2: "Lyds wasn't involved in that, bro. Someone else was."_

_Voice 1: "Then where is she?"_

_Voice 2: "If she's smart, she went on the lam when everything went to shit. Listen, I didn't mean to hit Violet. I had Flynn lined up in my sights when I pulled the trigger."_

_Voice 1: "I told you I wanted nothing to do with that and I still don't. You fucked up, baby brother and it's time you learned from it. Turn yourself in."_

_Voice 2: "Dammit, Greg, listen to me! The convoy attack was a hit on me!"_

_Voice 1: "…I see…so I suppose you're going to tell me David Flynn did this?"_

_Voice 2: "No…I'll deal with Flynn eventually, but this is something else. Even he couldn't pull off something like this. These novas were professionals; they took down the Utopia convoy and their nova personnel. And Greg…there was something off with this team. They felt familiar somehow…I can't explain it."_

_Voice 1: "Listen, it's not safe talking like this. I take it you're at some sort of safe-house you set up?"_

_Voice 2: "Yeah, Lyds is gone. Hopefully I'll catch up with her at-"_

_Voice 1: "No, for once, listen to me. The whole thing with Flynn was a bad idea and with whatever heat they got after you, you don't want it coming down on Lydia. Contact Dicker and turn yourself in."_

_Voice 2: "You're kidding, right? Those bastards at Utopia pulled some legal international jurisdiction bullshit and Dicker had no choice but to hand me over to them when they had me the first time. They'll just try to snatch me again. Look, I'm not sure what's going on, but I figured I should at least call you and let you know I'm okay and you better watch your back. Whoever came after me might try to use you as leverage against me."_

_Voice 1 *chuckles bitterly*: "I do believe the last time we talked, you wanted me to help you commit a murder and then you told me to go to Hell when I said 'no'."_

_Voice 2: "Look, I know we're not on good terms, but you're family and I owe you that much…just watch your back, okay?"_

_(**connection terminated**)_

* * *

**_CTV Studios_**

**_Ottawa, Canada_**

Greg closed his cell-phone and shook his head. He knew he was going to get a phone call of some sort the moment he heard of the attack on the Utopia prison transport. He also figured that Project Utopia probably had his cell-phone activity under surveillance so he was certain that he'd be hearing from them soon.

_I wonder if they'll contact me before or after tonight's broadcast,_ he thought. Despite the severity of the situation, he couldn't help smiling at the irony of it all. In a few short hours, he and Ted were going to be live on national television with CTV's Lloyd Robertson for a special W5 presentation centering on Utopia's mishandling of the Mexico City emergency relief effort.

It could easily be defined as a conflict of interest for him, but, in all honesty, Greg doubted Utopia would do anything to pull the plug on tonight's broadcast. Oh sure, there was the occasional call by some MP over the last few days who tried to pressure the CTV bigwigs into pressuring Lloyd to kill the story, but that didn't quite go over well when Lloyd personally took one of the calls.

_But it was funny, that's for sure._

Brian chuckled as he remembered Lloyd actually talking to one of the MPs. The old man managed to use the same tone and manner he used when on the air; Calm, cool, professional, and even toned as he said: "This is Lloyd Robertson, I'm running the story, end of conversation. And that's the kind of day it's been."

_If there was any other way to tell someone in Parliament to "fuck off" without actually swearing, I don't know of it._

Of course, with the attack on the Utopia convoy in California and the incident at the United Nations over the last couple hours, Greg got the impression that Utopia had more important things to worry about than some measly primetime investigative news show. In fact, Lloyd made it clear that once the tonight's show was over, Greg, Ted, and Rita were to pack up and head for New York to get started on their next investigative report. Like any news shark, Lloyd could smell blood in the proverbial water and he wanted a good crew there to bring the prey down.

Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about certain higher-ups in the CTV who seemed nervous about investigating Project Utopia and Greg was certain that, if Lloyd didn't have the clout that he had with the network, there would have been no special report and the clueless lemmings that made up most of their viewers would be watching yet another shitty installment of "American Idol" or "Dancing With The Stars".

_Or, God forbid, a biased Barbara Walters special._

Now THERE was a dinosaur that deserved to be extinct.

_Shit…when did I become so fucking cynical? Oh yeah…since I got in this line of work._

"Hey, Greg!"

Greg looked up and saw Rita Ortiz approaching him. With her was a woman with long auburn hair and green eyes. He didn't know why, but something about her eyes got his attention. Then he felt a sharp pain in his head, informing him that his sinus headache had returned. He had been dealing with them since Mexico. Then he recognized the woman who was accompanying Rita.

"Hey, Rita," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He nodded at the other woman. "And…I can't remember your name, but you were one of the emergency workers down there, weren't you?"

"Yes, I am," replied the woman as she shook Greg's hand. "I'm Carol Hill, I was assigned with the unit from LA General that went down with your group." She seemed to hesitate for a moment before giving him a smile. "I'm sorry, is something wrong?"

Greg shook his head. "Nah," he said, "I've been having sinus problems since I was down in Mexico City. Damn allergies make them react certain ways, causing them to swell and give me a mini-migraine. It'll go away in a few seconds."

"Ah, well, can't you take some sort of medicine for that?"

_Not really, since I'm a nova and normal meds won't work._

"No," he said, "because the stuff that works would put me in a coma for twelve hours…not that I wouldn't mind. I could use the sleep."

"I thought that's what the bottle of scotch was for," Rita quipped.

"And they won't let me drink on the job," Greg shot back. "Don't know why."

"Mardi Gras 2003," Rita said.

Greg shuddered at that memory. "Okay, we don't need to talk about THAT…EVER."

Rita giggled. "Oh c'mon…you looked cute in that jester's get-up." She then leaned in Hill's direction. "He was stage diving off one of the floats in the parade."

"Again…we will NOT bring that up…ever again."

Rita shrugged. "Okay," she said, "it's not like Lloyd put it up on Youtube for all to see."

"What!" Though he pretended to be outraged, Greg couldn't hold up the façade for too long and started laughing…until a scary thought hit him. "Wait…you were joking, right?"

Rita gave him an evil grin. "You'll just have to search Youtube and find out for yourself," she giggled. "But seriously, Carol's here to give us some more information." She held up a briefcase briefly. "She says we all should get a look at this."

"Seriously?" Greg's curiosity grew. "How big are we talking?"

"Very big," Hill said, cutting Rita off. "You could say it will blow things wide open."

"So where are Lloyd and Ted?"

"In the studio doing some prep work."

"Perfect," the redhead said, smiling at him. "You should come with us, this is explosive stuff."

Greg was about to agree when the mini-migraine struck again. "I'll catch up with you," he said, deciding that maybe he would sneak into Ted's office and help himself to some of that Jack Daniels his friend kept in the lower right drawer of his desk.

Hill seemed disappointed by that, or at least there was something in her eyes that hinted that she was disappointed by it, but she smiled and nodded. "Well, I guess you'll find out soon enough."

Greg nodded, hoping he was polite enough when he spoke. "Yeah, well, it's only for a few minutes…this headache is killing me."

"He'll be with us shortly," Rita said, taking her guest by the arm. "Lloyd and Greg are over here in the main studio."

Greg watched them walk away, and then shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose which seemed to be helping his migraine fade a bit. A few minutes, later, the migraine dissipated (thanks to a few shots of bourbon he downed with a handful of aspirin) and he grabbed himself a cup of coffee from the lounge before making his way down the hall towards the main studio.

He was several feet away from the door when he heard a half-dozen pops. Recognition and a force of habit had him dropping his coffee cup and running for the door. He knew what those pops were; he had heard plenty of gunshots in his life to recognize them. When he reached the door, he noticed it had been locked and frantically grabbed his keycard to open it.

What he saw when he opened the door stopped him dead in his tracks. Rita stood there in the middle of the studio floor, a pistol in her hands. A couple CTV staffers were laying dead and lifeless on the floor while a few others were cowering in fear or bleeding to death.

Kicking his X-ray vision on, Greg could see through the broadcast desk and saw Lloyd on the ground. Ted managed to pull himself up off the ground, but it was clear he took a couple shots in his arm and possibly his shoulder.

"What the-" was all Greg got out before Rita whirled and fired a couple shots in his direction, causing him to duck to the side. "Shit!" he screamed.

"Mal is my savior!" Rita chanted. "Mal is my savior!" Greg chanced a glance back in the room and saw Rita returning her attention to Ted who was trying to walk towards her. She had an almost blank look in her eyes as she talked. "Death to the baselines…Mal is my savior!"

_What the fuck is going on here?_ Greg caught the slight glance in his direction from Ted who nodded at him and he felt a sense of dread at what his friend was going to do. _Shit…Ted…don't do it!_

"R-Rita, listen to me," Ted said, clutching at his shoulder wound, wobbling slightly as he spoke. "It's me….Ted."

Rita kept the gun pointed at Ted, but her arm started to shake. "Ted?" She shook her head as if waking up from a dream. "W-what's going on?" Then she stiffened up again. "Mal is my savior…I die for Mal…" She started to reach inside her jacket with her other hand.

"Rita…no!" Ted said.

Rita's arm wavered again as she fired a couple more shots, but they went wide and the bullets slammed into the wall. Greg focused his vision on Rita and then saw what Ted was alarmed at.

_Oh fuck!_

"I'm…sorry…" Rita cried as she pushed on something inside her jacket just as Ted lunged forward.

There was a flash, followed by a deafening roar and Greg felt himself being knocked back several feet from the explosion before his world dissolved into a sea of black.

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but it wasn't long because two paramedics were trying to help prop him up. His vision was blurry, but he managed to blink the blurriness away a couple seconds later.

"Sir," he heard one man say, "can you hear me?"

"Y-yeah," Greg managed to choke out. "What happened?"

"Terrorist attack," the other paramedic replied, disgust in his voice. "Apparently the Teragen infiltrated here."

That didn't make sense to Greg, Rita wasn't a nova, let alone a nova terrorist.

_What the hell's going on?_

"What about Ted?" he asked, already dreading the answer.

"Poor bastard got killed by the explosion, as did some of the crew. But the old man behind the desk might make it. They stabilized his condition, but they still gotta' get the bullets out of him."

_So Lloyd survived…and people said he was nuts for wanting that solid oak desk._

He propped himself up, but one of the paramedics gently pushed him back down. "No, just stay there and let us carry you out of here. You're cut up pretty bad and you show signs of a concussion."

Greg did what he was told and let them cart him off on a stretcher as he tried to replay the events leading up to the explosion. He remembered getting a migraine headache when he ran into Rita and that red haired lady…that medic from Mexico City they met…Carol Hill. His migraine got worse as he talked to them, they headed off to the newsroom, and he headed off to Ted's office to help himself to some bourbon and half a bottle of aspirin.

_Then I grabbed a coffee, headed back to the newsroom, and all hell broke loose…wait…hold on._

As a cameraman, Greg prided himself on being able to look at a scene, memorize details, and recognize people. He then realized something from the limited time he had looked in the newsroom.

_That redhead…Hill…she wasn't there._

"Wait," he said, reaching up to pull off the oxygen mask as they were about load him on an ambulance, "there was some red-haired lady there, another paramedic on the scene, said her name was Hill."

The first paramedic shook his head. "Not sure if she was in there, but we didn't see any redheads in the area where we found you. And none of the dead matched your description."

Greg's mind was reeling from that response and he said nothing else as they loaded him up on the ambulance. However, his blood went cold as they closed the doors and he got a good look out the rearview window.

Standing next to the CTV main entrance, unnoticed by everyone around her, was the woman calling herself Carol Hill, observing the scene; then she looked in Greg's direction, actually making eye contact as she smiled at him and waved at the departing ambulance. She was saying something, and he was certain that she was whispering it, but that didn't matter. He could read lips and he knew exactly what she said.

"See you soon."

* * *

_**Metroville General Hospita**_

_**Metroville, California**_

"No." It was a simple one worded answer. Silently spoken, but the cold rage in Helen Parr's voice could easily be felt as well as the finality it implied. "That is not going to happen."

"Helen, please," Bob said, "she's my daughter too and there's a good chance this could work."

"Mrs. Parr," Doctor Saunders began, "I can assure that at the very least that the treatment will prevent your daughter's condition – "

Helen cut him off with a glare. "No, Doctor, you're getting anywhere near my daughter. I don't want anything or anyone associated with that THING near her." She then turned to look down at her daughter lying in her bed, hooked up to the various machinery keep her alive. "That bastard is the reason my little girl is here," she said softly as she reached down to brush a strand of hair out of Violet's face. A tear rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes for a moment; then she looked back up, her expression hardening as she looked at both her husband and the Doctor. "You people have done enough damage, don't you think?"

Bridgette Saunders stood out in the hallway outside Violet Parr's room, watching her father and Mr. Parr try to convince Violet's mother that the treatment was the only option. To her, it was a logical decision…using whatever methods available to increase Violet's chances of survival and recovery was the only valid option. She could not understand why Helen Parr was letting her hatred of David Flynn prevent her from using a very viable treatment that could save her daughter.

_Obviously, there's some history between the Parrs and David Flynn._

Bridgette shook her head slightly, managing to stifle a snort of disgust. "Some people are just too damn emotional."

"Wow, that's fucking cold," she heard someone say.

Bridgette turned to see the little boy, about nine or ten…Violet's youngest brother…Jack, sitting a few feet away in a chair in the hallway. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

The boy stared at her for a moment, frowning slightly. "And you," he said, "aren't that emotional at all, are you?"

That comment caught Bridgette off guard. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"I know I'm just a kid, but I know how to study a mark and figure out their game by how they act or react in a situation." Jack gave her a tiny smile. "And you're not really much of a people person, are you?"

Bridgette walked over and sat down in the chair next to him. "You're awfully young to be talking like that."

"I'm a child of the times," Jack chuckled with a shrug, "you'd be surprised at the amount of actual educational material is on cable these days…along with a bunch of useless shit. Besides, one is never too old to learn how to make money." Then his smile faded and his expression became more serious. "Is your dad telling the truth? Can that stuff save Violet?"

Bridgette hesitated for a moment, debating how she should answer the child. "Truthfully, we're not sure what it will do to her in the long run, but it can repair the bone, tissue, and spinal damage. However, honestly, it can't wake her up. She has to do that on her own."

"And here I was thinking you were going to sugar coat it for me."

"That is the sugar coated version. The full version is that it would be painful and we're not fully aware of what it can do to a human, let alone a nova."

"But it would give her more of a chance, right?"

"Yes."

"Then why not just do it?"

"Because, ethically, it's wrong and my father and I both take that stuff seriously."

"Fuck ethics, this is my sister."

"And that's why it's up to your parents to make the call, not you."

"So, you're telling me that you could save a life, but not do it if someone else told you not to." Jack shook his head and looked down at his sneakers. "Good thing I'll never be a doctor when I grow up…ethics suck."

Bridgette could suppress the tiny smile forming on her lips. She liked the little kid who seemed to have it all together, which was better than the way his mother and older brother were handling the situation. She was about to say something when the elevator doors down the hall opened up and NSA Director Dicker suddenly appeared, flanked by a couple men in suits.

"Jack," the old man barked, "where are your parents?"

"I'm here, Rick," Bob said, stepping out of Violet's room. "What's going on?'

"It's a shit storm out there," the old man replied. "David Flynn called out Utopia in a big way and leaked out a list of their agents after the Utopia team took Brian Paladino into custody."

"He did what?"

"That's not all," Dicker said. "We just got word the Utopia transport was hit by a team of unknown novas and there's a firefight going on downtown."

"Isn't that Team Tomorrow jurisdiction?" Bob asked.

"Both novas assigned to the team are down, and we know one of them was decapitated. Right now, it looks like Paladino and Bomber are trying to fight off the unknown novas."

"Wait, Bomber?" Bob asked. "I heard the local PD caught Renard, but why would Utopia be taking him?"

"Something I'm trying to figure out myself, Bob." There was something in the old man's voice, anger. "Someone at Utopia's got people in our own government trying to come down on us and undermine our authority. I'm starting to wonder if Flynn's action might be a good thing."

"What did that little bastard do now?" Helen growled as she stepped out in the hallway to join them.

"Helen, I want you to listen to me carefully," Dicker warned, "David Flynn is not the enemy. And to answer your question, he had a confrontation with the Utopia team when they came to take Paladino into custody earlier this morning."

"They did what?"

"We had no choice, Helen." Dicker's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Utopia pulled out their legal team and they were able to pull the jurisdiction card." Then he gave them an evil grin. "About an hour ago, Flynn hacked the UN during a press conference and dumped a list of names belonging to Utopia operatives that infiltrated various government agencies and organizations. It's causing a headache in the international community, but I think he did a lot of people a favor."

Bob was about to say something when the elevator doors opened again and several med-techs and a couple doctors came out pushing a stretcher with a now all too familiar red haired young man lying on it.

"Okay, we got him stabilized," one of the doctors was saying, "but we need to get him hooked up fast…and I want people checking up on him every half hour!"

Dicker turned around, obviously surprised as he saw them wheel David Flynn down the hall. "What the hell happened?" he asked one of the people accompanying the group; Bob recognized the Native American man called Null.

"Not sure," Null replied, "but according to Nigel, he had some sort of seizure or attack."

* * *

**_Aeon Building_**

**_Manhattan, New York_**

Thetis sat behind her desk, reading the data scrolling across her computer monitor. Flynn's cyber-attack on Utopia was not unexpected; in fact, Thetis was counting on it the moment she informed Jefferson Kent to take custody of Brian Paladino. Though they had always intended to take Paladino into custody, it was a carefully laid trap to goad Flynn into attacking them. After his hacking of the weapons platforms a couple months ago, Thetis ordered that their security measures be completely upgraded and she ordered several novas with computer related abilities to the job. Granted, individually, they weren't as powerful as the boy but together they came up with some impressive security programs and firewalls.

However, she hired a specialist whose abilities were almost on par with Flynn's, but their job wasn't to prevent Flynn from getting the info. She smiled at the young Asian-American woman sitting in the chair on the other side of her desk and nodded. "Well, Ms. Nguyen, it seems your services were well worth the price."

The young woman nodded and smiled back. "I'm glad you're impressed, it's not everyday that someone pays me a few million to and execute programs meant to kill industrial mainframes. At the very least, it will slag his equipment...but if we're lucky, the boy's a vegetable."

Thetis allowed herself a chuckle. "One can hope," she said. "Out of curiosity, do you know what he hit?"

"Well, he accessed a list of agents, but it was his second breach that allowed me to hit him."

Suddenly, Thetis' smile died a little. "Second breach?"

"Yes." Nha Nguyen sounded pleased with herself and obviously hadn't noticed the sudden change in her employer's tone. "He and one of his partners online actually managed to crack into the upper tier firewall. He managed to grab something, but I couldn't tell what it was and he shot the data off to an untraceable slink before I could intercept it. His partner managed to jack out, but I managed to nail him before he got off-line." The young woman giggled wickedly. "My anti-intrusion programs could turn Pentagon computers into multi-million dollar paperweights, I can't help but wonder what it will do the little shit's brain."

"I see." Thetis kept her tone neutral, but she knew Ozaki would sense her concern. Sure enough, the Japanese telepath entered the office a couple seconds later. "Well, Ms. Nguyen, you honored your part of the bargain and payment has been made to your account."

"And the other part of our bargain?" Nguyen asked.

Thetis nodded. "As far as I'm concerned, Lady Ion and Nha Nguyen are two separate people and are not in violation of anti-trust laws." She then held up a finger in warning. "Just remember, Ms. Nguyen, though you are working for two competing companies, your loyalty is to us."

"Of course." The young woman nodded, then got up and left the room.

Thetis waited a few seconds and made sure Nguyen was gone before she spoke again. "Well, Hideo, does she know anything?" she asked.

Ozaki shook his head. "No," he replied. "And though the damage inflicted on us by Flynn's attack will hurt us for awhile, it is negligible. I'm more concerned, however, about the deeper breech. What's more distressing is that we don't know what operations files he accessed and who he gave them to."

"Is there anyway we can find out what he accessed?" Thetis asked.

Ozaki nodded. "Yes," he said, "but it will take time. Granted, we could bring in someone like Ms. Nguyen in to help us, but then she might be considered a risk afterwards and we would have to terminate her."

"True," Thetis admitted. "She's too much of a 'free spirit' despite what we pay her." Then she smiled. "On the other hand, the fact that she had no qualms about crippling Flynn reveals a ruthless streak behind that fun-loving exterior she hides behind."

"Indeed." Ozaki then sat down in the now vacant seat. "I also got word from a couple of our operatives in Ottawa. News reports are just starting to hit air."

Thetis tapped a key and the large flat-screen on her office flashed to life, displaying live news feed from N!Channel.

"_Though we don't have all the details, we can confirm that there was a terrorist attack at CTV studios here in Ottawa. Representatives of CTV and local law enforcement have yet to comment, but a press conference has been called and will take place shortly..."_

Thetis chuckled as she muted the sound. "Well," she said, "at least that went well." Then her smile faded again. "However, we still don't know what Flynn took in addition to those agent names and we still have the mess in Metroville to deal with. Do we know what happened with the convoy exactly?"

"Only two of our personnel survived the attack," Ozaki said. "Makarra is in serious condition, but the surgical team were able to remove all the glass fragments out of his body. Jefferson's legs were broken and he will be in a wheelchair for awhile."

"Glass fragments?" A puzzled expression formed on Thetis' face. "Makarra's got some some degree of invulnerability...how did glass fragments get in his body?"

Ozaki folded his hands in front of his body, something he usually did when making a report. "According to one of the doctors, they think that the tiny shards of glass had suddenly increased in weight and density. He said it was as if the glass shards had suddenly been subjected to at least a hundred times the Earth's gravity and then propelled into his body at the speed of sound."

"We only have one nova who has that ability," Thetis said.

"Yes," Ozaki said, nodding his head in agreement, "Gravity is still recovering from the injuries she suffered at the hands of Jack Parr and is barely able to lift a pencil at the moment."

"So we have no idea who these novas were that attacked the convoy?"

"Not yet, but I have people working on it."

"See that you do, Hideo." Thetis was about to go back to reading the reports on her computer screen, silently letting Ozaki know that he was dismissed. "Ozaki," she said as the man got up out of his chair, "if Flynn is incapacitated, have your people check out SST. See if they can get inside."

The Japanese man smiled and nodded. "As you wish, Director Thetis," he said. "If he has been dealt with, what do you want to do about SST and their personnel?"

Thetis gave him a shark-like grin. "Well, their attack on us revealed they may have advanced technology that violates UN law...Utopia's Sci-Tech division might have to inspect the facility and detain anyone you suspect of violating the technology clause. Just don't do it right away. We'll rattle their cages and see if we can coax some of them to join us before we close in."

"And those that still oppose us?"

Thetis shrugged. "Then we start locking up some of their key people...although I think the Kilmarten girl being brutally murdered and discovered in a back alley will go a long way towards breaking them."

"Very well, Director."

Thetis watched her second in command leave, then returned her attention to the television screen on the wall that was currently displaying a photo of David Flynn. Curious, she turned the sound back on.

"_Strangely enough, David Flynn or anyone else from Syndrome Software and Technologies have not been available for comment after his revelation at the UN..."_

"Well gee, I wonder why," Thetis chuckled. "It's too bad you stood against us Flynn, we could have used you. But at least you won't suffer much since you're a vegetable now."


	32. Interlude II

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird.

Author's Notes: Okay...posting this up after going ten rounds with the flu (the flu won via technical knock-out several times, then continued to beat the shit out of me after the match was over and it was declared the victor). This is kind of a weird chapter for me since most of it takes place in cyberspace and I'm pretty much ripping my inspiration from stuff like Tron, The Matrix, Shadowrun, and Cyberpunk. If I lose you somehow...don't worry. Just let me know and I'll correct the problems.

As usual, thanks to the usual suspects for sticking around. Reviews and threats are welcome.

Oh...and Downery, if you happen to have found your way here from TTH, do me a favor and leave. FFN doesn't have a rating system so you can't pull your shit here.

* * *

_N!Channel Reporter Holly Brooks: "In what can only be described a scene out of a violent action movie, the convoy was attacked by three unidentified novas and the nova Elite called Slapstick who seemed intent on freeing the prisoners. There were several casualties among the Utopia personnel and innocent bystanders. One of the two novas assigned to the convoy is confirmed dead while the other has been taken to a Utopia facility. According to a Utopia representative, Makarra is in critical condition, but they are confident he will survive. While one of the prisoners escaped, authorities were able to recapture Jean-Paul Renard, also known as Bomber, before he could flee. This was accomplished in large part by Team Tomorrow's Firewing and independent Utopia sponsored KikJak who were instrumental in-"_

_Unknown Voice (off camera): "Okay, that's it; you can do your bullshit reporting elsewhere."_

_(Camera pans to show a man in his early thirties with short-cropped hair wearing a kevlar vest, an MPD badge dangling off a chain around his neck along with a pair of military dog-tags)_

_HB: "Look officer, we have every right to be here and report the news…the people…"_

_Unknown: "First off, bitch, I'm a Detective, Detective Daniel O'Reilly. Second, you have the right to report the news, not make it up as you go along; you Utopia bastards have a studio for that. And third, the people have a right to know the truth. Since you aren't capable of telling the truth, you can leave our crime scene and let us working people do our jobs."_

_HB: "So what are you hiding, Detective?"_

_(The now identified Detective Daniel O'Reilly stops dead in his tracks and looks at the camera.)_

_O'Reilly: "I'm not hiding anything, Holly. But if you want some facts, let me line them up for you. Fact, we had Bomber in custody and Utopia took him. Fact, Utopia had yanked custody of the SST shooter from the US government. Fact, the Utopia convoy was hit and they were an easy target compared to attacking secure facilities. And finally, and yes I'll admit this might be speculation on my part, there's a good chance none of this crap would have happened if your Utopia masters had stayed the hell out of it. But her, what do you care? You're media whore, so go back to your hotel room, come up with a story, phone it in, then go do whatever vice you do when you're not in front of the camera while us real grown-ups actually do some work."_

_(*O'Reilly turns and walks away, but Brooks motions for the camera to follow him*)_

_HB: "Detective we're not done here…."_

_-N!Channel News, Metroville_

* * *

_"It has been confirmed by investigators on the scene that there is evidence indicating that Rita Ortiz, a studio technician at CTV, had Teragen sympathies. Information had been discovered on her computer involving the layout of the CTV building in Ottawa. She had also accessed websites describing how to make bomb vests and wire explosives…"_

_-ABC News_

* * *

_"This goes to show how naïve some people are. They see Utopia as a threat and automatically side themselves with one of the factions they perceive as being heroic against Utopia. I guess we should be thankful she wasn't one of the right-wing conservative Michaelite nutjobs."_

_-Chris Matthews, MSNBC_

* * *

_"Several people were killed and injured, including investigative reporter Ted Richards who is credited with saving Lloyd Robertson's life. Mr. Robertson, senior anchor and news director for CTV is in critical, but stable condition. Our condolences and sympathies go out to the families of those affected by this tragedy. We wish Lloyd well and pray that he will recover…"_

_-CTV Interim News Director Sandra Ralgo_

* * *

_"It has been over twenty-four hours since David Flynn released the names of several Utopia operatives that had infiltrated various government agencies around the world. However, neither Flynn nor anyone else from SST has been available for comment since then. While Utopia Director Justin Laragione has repeatedly denied any clandestine activities from his organization, evidence provided by the Chinese, Israeli, and US government indicates some validity to David Flynn's claim."_

_-Ian Phelps, CBC News_

* * *

_"And the shit has hit the fan. Utopia went after David Flynn, Flynn fired a warning shot across their bow, Utopia…though they claim otherwise…took a direct shot at Flynn and Flynn retaliated by outing a list of Utopia operatives that Utopia claims aren't operatives despite the fact there's some pretty damning evidence. Already, nations like the United States, China, Germany, Russia, Israel and, hell, even Iran…fucking IRAN are all demanding some sort of investigation or an oversight committee on Utopia. Okay…folks, you know times are truly fucked up when the US, China, Israel, and Iran are on the same team and going after the same target together. Oh sure, Iran and Israel still hate each other, but you know Utopia must have done something really bad if you have two historical enemies briefly setting aside their differences to go after a common enemy with a hatred they usually reserve for each other."_

_-Henry "Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show", XM Radio_

* * *

_"Okay…let's think about this for a moment. Rita Ortiz, some cute little media tech from up in Canada…a BASELINE human (not a nova), had somehow been involved with the Teragen (according to certain biased media outlets that will remain unnamed in this post) for over a year or two and had planned this attack during that time and chose just this moment to strike? Really? Do Utopia and their cronies really think that low of the intelligence of the Sheeple they try to manipulate? Okay…maybe in Chicago…but that's neither here nor there, but c'mon! What I find interesting is that, despite the claims in the media, the various law enforcement agencies that SHOULD be investigating this have turned the investigation over to Utopia backed agencies who somehow untangled this sudden link to the Teragen._

_Um…okay, here's a question. Has anyone been paying attention to the CTV broadcasting lately over the last month? Did anyone happen to catch that Lloyd Robertson (who I hope does fucking recover and get his job back) and Ted Richards (RIP, good sir, you will not go unavenged) were going to be doing a special live edition of CTV's W5 (think "60 Minutes", "20/20", or "Nightline" but with actual competence) that night? And, did anyone not catch the fact that it was going to be an in-depth expose' on Utopia's fuck-up in regards to the Mexico tragedy? Has anyone, at least those who had been watching CTV news up to this point, not noticed the fact that CTV has done nothing to really anger the Teragen in any way? In fact, if I remember right, one of the Teragen's key spokesmen, Count Raoul Orzaiz himself, did a couple interviews with Robertson and even appeared on their Sunday news show "Question Period"._

_I ask you people…given the fact that CTV has been amiable at best, or neutral at worst, toward the Teragen, was there any real reason the group would go after the network at all?_

_Or…how about this question: Cui Bono? Who fucking benefits?_

_Well, that's enough ranting from me. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to deal with a more pressing question…where the hell is David Flynn?_

_-Anonymous Post, H-Cove_

* * *

_"What happened in Metroville, California yesterday could have easily been avoided. Despite their claims to the contrary, Utopia is a world power or nation unto itself. To put it bluntly, Utopia used international legal bureaucracy to play the jurisdiction card to bring their own forces into another sovereign nation against that nation's wishes just to grab to criminals who were securely held in American custody. And by doing so, they made themselves a target by a group of rogue novas who attacked the convoy, killed many Utopia personnel, killed many innocent bystanders, and caused a lot of collateral damage to a section of a major metropolitan area. So don't be surprised come this next Election Day when several pro-Utopia politicians find themselves out of a job. We're taking our country back, starting with congress. After which, you better believe there will be calls by our government for an investigation into Utopia's actions here and abroad."_

_-"Golden Avenger" Robert Washington Kaufman, Director of PRIMUS in an interview with Sean Hannity_

* * *

2 November 2006

Somewhere in Cyberspace

The Grid, The Net, The Matrix, The Digital Frontier…Alex Doan was certain that there were other names people called what he considered his domain. And while he was certain any term would apply, he himself simply referred to it by the old-school term "Cyberspace".

And for a nova of his ability, Cyberspace was Alex Doan's world. Sure, his flesh and blood body was in a permanent coma, but his mind, his essence, his very being…it existed here in this digital world of wonder that most people in the world merely regarded as a worlds of electronic impulses transmitting 1s and 0s in intricate forms of computer code. To them, their world consisted of a computer monitor and keyboard.

But to Alex Doan, also known as the nova called Synapse, this was a wild and strange new world that was pretty much untouched. Oh sure, almost everyone had a computer and surfed the web, but very few knew how to navigate this digital ocean of light, sound, and circuitry. If someone had asked Synapse what cyberspace was like, he wasn't sure if he could every give them an accurate description because he suspected that it pretty much dealt with the perception of the individual directly experiencing it.

However, when Leviathan asked him that, the best he could come up with was a line from the classic novel, "20,000 Leagues under the Sea", by Jules Verne. "Where the known world stops in the shallow depths of the sea, mine is only just beginning."

Leviathan, though not very computer savvy, clearly understood the meaning. Though he was considered one of the Teragen's "monstrous freaks", he possessed a sharp mind and loved to read. Synapse remembered the look on the large nova's face that broke into a big toothy grin while most of the others (except Orzaiz and Scripture who nodded their approval) seemed confused at the reference.

"Cool," Leviathan had said. "Loved the book and the movies…just stay away from the giant squid though, okay?"

As a present (and a joke), Synapse arranged to have "small" (a relative term since it was over ten feet long) model of the Disney version of the Nautilus sent to Leviathan's lair. It surprised Synapse that Leviathan not only kept the model, but kept it stored in a safe place along with his collection of hardcover "Dirk Pitt" novels written by Clive Cussler.

But yes, Synapse considered himself the "Captain Nemo" of cyberspace. Every computer network linked to the net was like an island or large landmass in this world…territory that could be explored, attacked, conquered, or destroyed. Sure, there were others, computer programmers and very talented hackers who delved into his realm, but they never reached the depths to where he would go...except one.

David Pine Flynn.

He had first encountered Flynn several months ago when he caught something cutting through firewalls of various organizations and company like a hot knife through butter. Flynn was as fast and seemed as at ease in the realm of cyberspace as Synapse was. Then a few months later, Flynn formed his own company, SST. When SST's network went online, it was as if a large and high-tech island fortress had suddenly materialized in the digital ocean that Synapse called home. However, the glowing and foreboding obelisk that represented Flynn's constant presence on the net was almost always separate from the SST network, only linking up every few days for an update.

Contrary to what he told the others, Synapse had managed to get past SST's firewalls and even managed to get a glimpse at what Flynn was up to. Most of it was advanced tech, schematics, proposals, and electronic data transfers involving various forms of research. One interesting bit of data that caught Synapse's attention was the quiet acquisition of the BS2 project in Arizona and the attempt to get it fully functional…before breaking it down for relocation to an island out in the Pacific. In fact, it seemed Flynn cared more about that project than everything else SST was working on.

_What are you planning, Flynn? And what's so important about that island you want to buy back from the NSA?_

He watched the now empty void of cyberspace that Flynn's digital presence had occupied, wondering what it could mean as the random data stream flowed over and around the vacant zone that seemed to be shrinking. He replayed that moment over and over again in his mind where he lost contact with Flynn. Flynn shot him a data packet of some highly classified information ripped straight from the depths of the Aeon Society's most secure sectors and warned him to run.

"Get the hell out!" Flynn had literally screamed over the net before that whole sector seemed to explode into a cascade of neon colors before being engulfed by a cold void that signaled data walls collapsing and mainframes going offline somewhere.

In a twisted way, it sort of reminded Synapse of that scene from that old (but timeless classic) Harrison Ford movie, Raiders of the Lost Ark, where the protagonist was trying to escape a collapsing temple while a boulder was chasing him.

Synapse escaped with the loot in hand, David Flynn right behind him screaming for him to keep going. Then the explosion happened as Synapse linked up to a floating data-node that shot him back to the safety of his home system on the net. He thought Flynn had made it out, but was shocked to discover that the man had gone offline which was bad given the fact that Flynn's consciousness was linked to the net at all times, even when he slept. He couldn't just "turn it off".

And, yet…Flynn was gone, leaving an empty, but slowly shrinking space as random data flowed around it, like water eroding away solid clump of dirt…

_Whoa, hold on a second…_

He had seen networks crash and die before online. He had seen the digital island fortress of some corporation collapse under a massive hacker attack more than once (having participated in a few himself), literally exploding in a flash of light and data as their firewalls went down and then fading out of existence as it sank into the digital sea of information and datastreaming, dead like it's mainframe in the real world. To a being like Synapse, witnessing such an event would seem like a few hours in cyberspace when only a few minutes of real time had actually passed.

However, the empty space where Flynn's presence had been active was still just that, an empty space, and it was over twenty-four hours of real time.

_That empty space should be gone…nothing there…unless._

He momentarily shuddered as he had a horrible thought.

_He's still on the grid, but some thing's disconnecting him bit by bit from his body. But that can't be possible…could it?_

He brought himself close enough to the small "void" and, upon closer inspection, stumbled back in shock. His eyes (well, his glowing green eyes of his cyberspace generated self, not his comatose flesh and blood body in the real world) widened when he realized what he was looking at.

_No fucking way!_

He reached out towards the object, touching it, only to reel back in pain. He felt a cold numbness in his "hand" and then watched as the small "void" shimmered briefly, showing something within glowing a faint, but familiar color, before swallowing it.

* * *

Back in the real world, the device monitoring David Flynn's brain activity spiked for a moment, but then resumed its steady pattern indicating that he was still slowly dying.

* * *

"Well, I'll be damned," Synapse muttered as he brought up special diagnostic programs to identify what he was dealing with. After a few more seconds, he realized that he was looking at a piece of programming that looked familiar. It was definitely a viral program designed to kill mainframes…he had seen plenty of them (and even created a few), but this was…something new.

_This virus was custom made to target a nova with cyber-kinetic abilities. The damn thing keeps the poor bastard locked on the grid, and then proceeds to cut him off from his physical body…killing him. And it looks like it was designed specifically for someone like Flynn…or me._

That's when the realization hit him.

_Flynn was warning me. Someone in my current physical condition probably would have died…but he's still in there…alive! Alive but trapped…and the way that thing's shrinking, he doesn't have much time._

For a moment, Synapse considered breaking Flynn free on his own, but a quick medical diagnostic on his own physical body informed him that he had experienced a seizure the moment he touched the viral code encasing Flynn.

_Shit…this is not good. If I try to take this on my own, there's a good chance it could kill me. I can't risk going to H-Cove because I know whoever did this is probably lurking there…same with the SST crew, people will notice them going into action and put two and two together._

Then he smiled (or he would have if his virtual self had a mouth) as an idea hit him. With a mental command, he brought up links to encrypted networks based in Hong Kong and mainland China.

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or so the saying goes. All I have to do now is sweeten the bait._

He linked the networks and noted that one of them was actually an active hub used by the Peoples Army.

"Greetings," he said, his voice being translated into Mandarin. "I understand that you people in China pride yourselves on breaking past the firewalls of Western companies and governments, but today is the day that all comes to an end."

With another command, Synapse provided the location of the target.

"Today," he continued, "you will encounter a firewall that proves that, once again, the great Chinese dragon is impotent and will fall to Utopia ingenuity. We are your superiors, and soon, you will bow before us."

He then cut the links and pulled himself away, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

_I just hope I didn't overdo it._

Suddenly, several data-nodes flashed into existence surrounding the object and data streams began to flow from it as Chinese based hackers and programmers, angry at the "challenge", showed up to answer it. Synapse watched as several customized viral and anti-viral programs, several worms, and spyware assaulted the void which lashed out, knocking several of its attackers offline.

More nodes began to appear, and Synapse picked up activity from other areas around the world. A glance at the net-chatter told him someone had either been watching what the Chinese hackers were doing or, more likely, some of the Chinese hackers called for back up and others got wind of it.

_Shit, we got nodes from all over the place. China…the US…Germany…Australia…the UK…everywhere! _

The viral shell holding Flynn continued to fight back, knocking more of its enemies offline, but Synapse started to notice it was reacting more slowly in retaliating and the shell was starting to crack in places, a sickly yellow-orange glow seeping through. Then he noticed the glow was starting to intensify. It was almost as if…

_He's alive in there…and he's starting to fight back!_

Though he knew there was a risk, Synapse figured it was the best shot he had. Within moments, he brought up several viral programs of his own, reinforcing them with extra bits of code and functions that would allow them to adapt for as long as they could.

_This better fucking work…_

He let the programs loose, having them all concentrate on one area of the virus while it dealt with the attacks coming in multiple directions from the others. At first, it looked like the attack didn't do much…then several more cracks began to form in the viral shell and the yellow-orange glow had begun to intensify.

_It's working, dammit! It's working!_

Then Synapse's eyes widened in horror and realization again.

_Oh shit! It is working!_

He immediately killed his viral programs and conjured up as much shielding as he could, building himself a firewall that he hoped would shield himself well enough as he backed away. Net-chatter told him that the others had detected something was up and began to log out. However, there were a good number of them still sticking around, either uncaring or completely oblivious to what was about to happen.

Four seconds later, the viral shell exploded and that whole section of cyberspace was consumed in a fiery orange light, destroying any of the node connections in the area that were still active. Synapse, being linked to the net like he was, felt the shockwave hit him and throw him like a ragdoll across cyberspace. It wasn't until he crashed through a firewall belonging to some social website that he was able to regain his bearings and pull himself together.

Then he became aware of the fiery-orange glowing presence nearby. He looked up to see the glowing figure floating there, glaring down at him with cold blue eyes as it descended towards him. Then the glow faded to reveal David Flynn standing there in normal street clothes but still glaring at him.

"The Chinese," Flynn said in disbelief, "you had to provoke the Chinese to get me out?"

"Hey," Synapse shot back, "the options were limited…and, by the way, you're welcome!"

Flynn continued to glare at Synapse for a few more seconds, and then his facial expression started to crack before breaking into a full-blown grin as he shook his head. "You overdid it, didn't you?"

"Well, okay," Synapse admitted. "Maybe a little, but it worked, didn't it?"

"Oh yeah, it worked, alright." Flynn nodded his head in agreement. "It also hurt too. How long was I out?"

"About a day in real time."

"Shit," Flynn said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Only a day? It didn't feel that way."

Synapse gave Flynn a sympathetic nod. "Yeah, time's a little wonky in here as opposed to out there." He then saw Flynn shudder slightly. "Flynn, what happened to you in there?"

Flynn shook his head again. "It was like being stuck in a freezer or something, Synapse. You're aware of everything, but can't do anything…and that your body is shutting down on you. I wasn't sure how much longer I could fight before…"

"Before…before what?"

Flynn looked down for a moment. "I was close to just giving up in there, man. I just wanted to curl up and just let the cold numbness finish me."

"Yeah, well, you saved my ass back there from that thing, so I'll call it even. No..wait…I take that back…you sooooo owe me a game console and at least a year's worth of free network play."

"Done," Flynn said, smiling for a moment before his expression darkened again as he brought his hand up, holding up a crumbling gray ball that began to dissipate into neon particles. "But now that I have a sample of programming code, I'm going to wake up and then I'm going to have a chat with someone."

"Wait, you know who did this?"

The grin returned to Flynn's face, but there was no humor in it. His eyes glowed as he nodded at the disintegrating fragments of viral code in his hand. "Oh yeah," he said, "I know who did it, and I'm going to take care of her personally...off the grid."


	33. No More Games V

Disclaimer: Incredibles...owned by Brad Bird. Aberrant...still owned by White Wolf (though if I won the Mega Millions, you better believe I'd be buying it from them since they've abandoned it). PRIMUS is owned by HERO games.

Author's Notes: Well...another update. Still writing under the influence of a nasty cold (or flu...not sure), so I'm a little out of it. Just to warn you...this chapter is a little out there. We got David waking up from his coma and he's...well...he's a little pissed off in this chapter. Just warning you, that's all. Up until now, he's been fairly passive and even tempered (mostly), but we're going to see some of his darker side come out to play...I just hope you're not too disappointed by this. Also...the last bit of the chapter is going to be...well...kind of "out there". Oh...and yes, before anyone asks, yeah I watched a bit of Babylon 5 today and I borrowed a little bit of dialog...but hey...it fit, so no harm done.

As usual, thanks to everyone who's stuck around with me and, as always, comments, criticisms, and death threats are welcome.

* * *

"_Though there were several casualties, including the death of the nova operative Stalwart, the renegade mercenary Bomber was recaptured before he could escape. T2M member Firewing and independent Utopia sanctioned nova Kikjak were instrumental in restoring order and bringing Bomber back to justice."_

_-N!Channel News_

"_What the hell is that bitch on N!Channel talking about? It was a (beeeeeep)-ing bloodbath out there and I just happened to show up because (beep) was going down and I wanted to see what was going on. By the time I get there, the local PD have Bomber in custody and I start helping paramedics with the injured. Then Pax's fiery little whore shows up and makes a big scene for the N!channel crew. I don't know what you think, but I think that (beep) is seriously (beeeeep)-ed up."_

_-Kikjak in an interview with KMET News._

* * *

**_Metroville General Hospital_**

**_Metroville, California_**

"I will say this one final time," Helen Parr snapped at the three men standing with her in the waiting room, "the answer is no."

"Helen, Violet's holding on by a thread in there," Bob said. "This could help her."

"Or make her worse. Bob, keep in mind that she is here because that bastard in the room down the hall put her there." Helen then turned to glare and Doctor Saunders. "And you expect me to trust an associate of David Pine Flynn who, I learn from Dicker, worked for David's father during the time we were on that island. Excuse me for having some trust issues."

"Mrs. Parr," Doctor Saunders began, "I have a daughter and I can understand-"

"Oh, don't even think about going there," Helen snarled. "Your daughter isn't in any danger so don't even think of trying to sympathize with me."

"Helen, listen," this time it was Dicker who tried to reason with her, "you really need to calm down."

Helen whirled to look at the old man, her neck stretching slightly as she glared at him. "As for you," she said, "I hold you responsible for this. You should have just killed the little shit when you found him. Then none of this would have happened in the first place."

Dicker was about to respond when a doctor and a couple nurses ran past them down the hall. He managed to grab another doctor who followed the previous group. "What's going on?" he asked.

"It's David Flynn," the doctor replied, "he appears to be awake."

"Wow, how convenient," Helen growled.

Dicker ignored the comment and followed the medical staff to Flynn's room, leaving Helen, Bob, and Doctor Saunders to argue with each other. He had some questions for the young man, particularly about the recent news he was getting about various worldwide networks momentarily crashing in the last few hours.

"Sir," one of the nurses was saying, "you shouldn't be getting up."

Dicker reached the doorway of Flynn's room to see David Flynn sitting up in his bed and pulling the various cords attached to him off his body.

"Lady, I just spent the last twenty-four hours fighting for my damn life," Flynn said as he pulled an IV line out of his arm. "I'm pissed off, one of my friends is dying in another room down the hall, and I swear to God that I'm going to use this IV line to strangle the next person who tells me I need to lie down and relax."

"Sir, you were in a coma."

"And you're gonna' be if you piss me off. Now give me my damn clothes and…" Flynn stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Dicker standing there. "Well, well, Director Dicker…would be so kind as to use your government influence for a good cause, for a change, and order these bastards out of here in the name of national security or some other government bullshit?"

"Everyone out," Dicker said, giving the nurse Flynn was arguing with a hard glare. The medical staff cleared the room, leaving Flynn and Dicker alone in the room. Dicker then closed the door and turned to face Flynn who was now pulling his clothes out of the small closet next to the hospital bed. "You're in a lot of trouble, kid," he said.

"No shit," Flynn replied as he got dressed. "I suppose you're here about the UN thing?"

"Among other things," Dicker replied. "According to the reports I've been getting from my operatives, your information is accurate and pretty damning. Needless to say, you've given Utopia a black eye."

"Yeah, well, I'm just getting started."

"By causing multiple network crashes worldwide?"

Flynn stopped and looked at Dicker for a second before responding. "In my defense," he finally said, "that wasn't me, that was…well…people other than me."

"The Chinese, Flynn?"

"Hey, I did nothing! Someone goaded them into attacking a piece of viral programming that was trying to kill me. Then others jumped on board when they saw what was going on. To be honest, I probably would have died if they hadn't done what they did."

Dicker stared at Flynn for a moment, studying the boy's action and movement. Though the kid was good at covering it up, Dicker did see a hint of fear on Flynn's face. "What happened in there, kid?" he asked, his tone softening a little.

"Not much to tell," Flynn replied as he reached down and started to pull on his shoes. "I hit the Aeon mainframe and they had something waiting for me. It wasn't just some counter-intrusion program or mere security measure. It was a program specifically created to kill me or anyone else with my abilities. But it's not something that could easily be used, it had to be tripped off by the intended target; to do that, they had to lure the target into a trap."

Then the realization hit Dicker. "They goaded you into action by taking Brian Paladino into custody."

"Yeah, and I was too pissed off at what happened with Violet to think it through." Flynn finished tying his shoes and stood up to look at Dicker. "But that's okay, I won't be making that mistake again and the programmer who designed that nasty piece of code will be dealt with."

"Wait…you know who did it?"

"Oh yeah, it was obvious once I scanned the remains of the code. If I were you, Dicker, you might want to have your crew ready to investigate ViaSoft in the near future."

The young man started to walk out the door, but Dicker reached out and grabbed him by the arm. "Kid, you might not want to go out there," he warned. "Helen Parr's still out there and not happy with you."

Flynn shook his head. "Like I care what that bitch thinks," he said irritably, "I'm sick of her judgmental attitude and that of her son's. I almost died today, another one of my friends is hanging on by a thread, and I don't have the time or patience to deal with her drama."

"Just warning you, kid," Dicker sighed, stepping aside to let Flynn leave. He followed the kid out into the hall where they were greeted by Zoe Kilmarten and Null who were coming down the hall.

Zoe momentarily became a pink blur before literally plowing into Flynn, making him stumble back a step. "David, David, David," she said rapidly, pausing only for a moment to step away and slap him in the face before continuing to talk. "Don't ever do that again, you had us worried. But you're okay now, so I'm not worried…wait...you are okay, right? You must be okay because, if you weren't, you wouldn't be standing here walking and talking, right? Right? Right?"

Flynn kissed her and held her for a moment. "I'm fine," he said, hugging her for a few more seconds before backing away to high-five Null.

"You had us worried there for a second, man," Null said. Dicker noted that, despite the casual tone, there was actual concern in the Native American's eyes. "You are okay, right?"

Dicker watched the unspoken conversation between Null and David Flynn. Though nothing was said, he caught the slight nod from Flynn who, after a moment, forced a soft chuckle. "Oh yeah," Flynn replied, "I'm fine."

Zoe seemed oblivious to the silent interaction between Flynn and Null. "Hey," she said, "sorry to interrupt but I pulled some info on Kent, but I think you should know that he's-"

"FLYNN!" They all turned to see Jefferson Kent, rolling towards them in a wheelchair being pushed by a Utopia agent while another one followed them from behind. "You think you can get away with this attack? Think again!"

"He's here in the building," Zoe finished.

Dicker stepped forward. "I'll handle this one kid," he said, but stopped when Flynn gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Dicker turned to give the kid one of his threatening glared, but stopped when the young man shook his head, a cold and dead look in his eyes.

"Not this time, old man," Flynn said softly, though the ice in his voice could easily be heard. "I think it's best if the NSA has no involvement here...please."

For a moment, Dicker was tempted to tell the kid to drop dead but decided against it.

_Given what he's been through the last day, I don't blame him, _Dicker thought. _However, I better reel him in and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid._

"Okay, kid," he sighed, stepping back and turning to walk away. "Get your pound of flesh, but be quick and don't kill them."

"Very smart, old man," Kent sneered.

Dicker ignored the man and shook his head as he turned around a corner. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he heard David Flynn say, "Okay, Mr. Kent, let's get down to business."

_This is going to be ugly_, he thought to himself as he started to motion the rest of the the medical staff to clear the area.

* * *

"Okay, Mr. Kent, let's get down to business." David studied the Utopia representative and had decided the man was either extremely confident or extremely stupid.

"You have a lot to answer for, Flynn," Kent snarled. "Your hacking of Utopia, then arranging an ambush on my convoy."

_Okay, _David thought, _definitely stupid _"Kind of hard to do since I was in a coma at the time," he shot back. "By the way, nice try...but, as you can see, I'm still breathing."

"How did you survive-" Kent suddenly cut himself as he realized he was about to admit to something. "I don't know what you're talking about, Flynn. But mark my words, this is just the beginning."

David rolled his eyes and glanced at Zoe and Null who were flanking him. "Shit, this is getting boring. Zoe, Null...if you don't mind?"

Zoe blurred out of existence and one of the guards escorting Kent went flying down the hall way before colliding face first into counter top belonging to a nurse's station. At the same moment, Null misted out only to reappear behind the other Utopian guard pushing Kent's wheelchair and knock him out from behind.

Though taken by surprise at Zoe and Null's actions, Kent instinctively reached into his jacket but was rewarded by a kick from David that knocked him out of his wheelchair and onto the floor. The sidearm he was reaching for clattered to the ground and he tried to reach out to grab it only to have a size ten men's Columbia brand hiking shoe step down hard on the back of his hand. He cried out in pain as he felt his fingers break.

"Bad idea," David said as he continued to grind the heel of his shoe on Kent's fingers, actually enjoying the sound of breaking bones. With his other leg, he kicked the .45 automatic away from them and towards Null who picked up the gun and put it in his own jacket. David then removed his foot from Kent's now damaged right hand. "I have to apologize, Director Kent. Normally, I hide behind a facade of false politeness and veiled threats, as you well know, but I've had a really shitty couple days and my patience is wearing a little thin."

After taking a couple seconds to look at his injured hand (while whimpering in pain), Kent glared angrily up at David. "You little shit," he hissed. "Do you even realize what you're up against?" He managed to prop himself up against a wall. "Attacking the Utopia convoy and then attacking me just now, do you know who I am and what I can do to you?"

David sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment. "You know, this really is getting really old." He suddenly stepped forward; this time bringing his foot down on Kent's cast, causing the man to scream as his leg was broken again. He then reached down with both hands, yanked the screaming Utopia man off the ground and then slammed him against the wall, turning Kent's scream into a muffled gasp from the impact. "Okay, Kent," David said hosting the man up to eye level, "I'm not in mood for the usual bullshit so let's just cut through it. Utopia, while a pain in the ass, is not my real problem; the people you truly answer to ARE my problem."

"Wha-what are you talking about?" Kent managed to gasp out.

"Spare me the 'dumb' act, Kent. I know about Proteus and I know that you're their main man in Utopia since Lansing disappeared. And for the record, I didn't arrange the attack on the convoy and your losing Brian Paladino really pissed me off. But we're getting off track here, Mr. Kent. First question…the attempt to kill me online, was that a Proteus op or did those bastards high up in Aeon order it?"

After waiting a couple seconds for Kent to answer, David reached down and squeezed the man's already mangled hand, causing him to scream again.

"Focus, Mr. Kent, focus!" he snapped. "Oh…and by the way, you scream like a girl. Now again, Proteus or Aeon, which was it?"

Despite the pain, Kent was still defiant. "It doesn't matter how I answer, Flynn," he chuckled. "Either way, I'm a dead man. But if you think I'm going to tell you, then you're sadly mistaken. Despite all your talk, you're nothing like your father. You're a weak little boy and I know you don't have the balls to kill me." He then spit at David's face, splattering the young man with bits of blood and saliva.

David, to his credit didn't flinch. Instead, he cocked his head to one side, locking eyes with his enemy. "Is that your final answer?" he asked in a casual tone.

"Fuck you, Flynn," Kent replied. "That's my answer."

"Okay," Flynn said with a shrug, "I tried to be nice about this." He then suddenly dragged Kent across the hallway, pushing open a fire exit door and spun around as he entered the stairwell, releasing his grip on Kent who went rolling down a flight of stairs before landing in a heap on the next level below. David stood there for a moment, looking down at Kent who, despite the fall, was still alive and conscious. However, it was obvious that, in addition to his leg and hand, both of Kent's arms were broken as well.

"You're right, Mr. Kent," David said as he wiped off his face with the back of his hand. "I'm not a killer, but I love making my enemies suffer to the point they wish I had killed them. Whether or not that makes me a weak person, well…I'll let you decide. Besides, like you said, you're a dead man either way. But here's some food for thought; given what just happened, do you really think the people you answer to will let you live anyway?"

"Y-you'll pay for this, Flynn," Kent managed to rasp. "I have friends, contacts that you don't know about...you will pay for what you've done today."

David arched an eyebrow and looked down at the broken man. "What I've done?" He chuckled coldly, his voice echoing through the stairwell. "Oh, Mr. Kent...I haven't even started with you people yet." He then stepped back into the hospital corridor where Zoe and Null were waiting for him. "Well, that wasn't very enlightening," he said, closing the fire exit door behind him.

"But it made you feel better, didn't it?" Null asked.

"Oh, hell yeah, you better believe it."

"So what happens now?" Zoe asked as the trio continued down the hallway, stepping over Kent's two bodyguards who were still unconscious.

"What happens now," David repeated, glancing around as hospital staff started to return to their duty stations. Apparently, Dicker had decided to let them return to the area. "Well, first off, you need to get back to SST and tell everyone I'm okay." He stepped aside to let a couple nurses attend to the unconscious bodyguards. "Stay there for a bit and, while you're there, book the three of us round trip tickets to New York and back."

"You sure that's wise?" Null asked.

"Probably not, which is why I want Zoe to keep it low-key."

Zoe gave David a mock salute. "Already on it," she said. She gave David a quick kiss and then disappeared in a pink blur.

A few seconds later, armed security personnel entered the area but, to David's surprise, they weren't any of Dicker's people, hospital security, or the local police department. One of the men in combat body armor approached David and Null, lowering his weapon as he signaled a couple of his men to subdue the Utopia bodyguards who were still being worked on by the medical staff.

"Agent Brian Martel, PRIMUS," the agent introduced himself. "Are you David Flynn?"

"Yeah," David replied. "Is there a problem? I was under the impression the NSA had jurisdiction here."

Agent Martel smiled. "The NSA has jurisdiction over you and SST personnel, Mr. Flynn. You did not violate homeland security and endanger the American public. However, the Utopia representative did when he improperly transported two dangerous nova prisoners through an American city, resulting in the deaths of several civilians during the terrorist attack on the convoy."

"Don't you think that's laying it on a little thick?" David asked.

The agent shrugged. "Maybe," he replied. "But given the fact that Utopia has compromised the security of the United States and other nations…as you are well aware of…PRIMUS has decided to take a pro-active approach to fixing the problem."

David's eyes narrowed at that comment and he gave the guard a tiny smile. "Thanks to evidence provided by me, the Golden Avenger has decided to flex his muscle and is using these incidents to fuel his own agenda. Is that what you mean?"

"Commander Kaufman's 'agenda', as you put it, is not my concern," the PRIMUS agent replied. "However, I have been informed to tell you that, as far as PRIMUS is concerned, you are not considered a threat."

_For now,_ David silently added. He was no fool and, from he knew about PRIMUS, he knew the Golden Avenger's opinions when it came to novas in general. _It's only a matter of time they might deem me as a threat...but for now, were on the same side. _"Good to know, Agent Martel," he said, shaking the man's hand. "And just so you know, the Utopia Director of International Operations is currently in the stairwell down the hall."

Martel's grin grew bigger. "Let me guess, he accidentally fell down the stairs?"

David nodded. "Yeah," he chuckled, "something like that."

Martel nodded as well and winked. "Didn't see a thing," he said. Then he turned and headed off down the hallway.

David and Null continued the other direction and, when he was certain they were clear of the PRIMUS team, David glanced over at Null, a concerned look on his face. "We better move fast," he said. "With PRIMUS getting involved, this could get ugly."

"Well, to be fair, the convoy attack did fall under their jurisdiction," Null said.

"Yeah...I know. From what I'm getting online, no one seems to know who was behind it. Do you have any idea who it could have been?"

Null shook his head. "No, but, get this...they're crediting Firewing and Kikjak with saving the day, at least on N!Channnel. However, Kikjak is denying that they actually did anything and is actually crediting MPD."

"Ouch," David winced, "that's going to give N!Channel a bad name. By the way, CTV...what happened over there?"

"Shiro and Ricky are looking into it. I take it you heard about the 'terrorist attack' at the station."

"Yeah," David said, closing his eyes for a moment as his mind linked up to the various news articles on the web about the incident. "And they're saying Rita Ortiz was responsible." He shook his head. "That doesn't make sense, Null. I've met Rita Ortiz...she was a technician, nothing more. She and Ted Richards were engaged and she had no Teragen links."

"Yeah, well, they're saying otherwise and, conveniently, the W5 special was not aired because they lost the footage." Null's voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "Utopia certainly moved fast to shut them down...the fuckers ended up airing a repeat of 'Dancing with the Stars'."

David said nothing for a few seconds, lost in thought. "Okay," he finally said, "CTV's been compromised, but that's the least of our worries for the moment."

"Oh really, like what?" Null asked.

David's expression became grim. "Oh nothing really," he said, "just the small fact that Utopia has someone capable of creating programs designed specifically to kill me."

* * *

_**Somewhere **_

_**Unknown**_

Violet woke up, feeling a slight breeze blowing against her face as she blinked away the blurriness in her eyes. She was also aware of specks of light shining down on her, causing her to squint a little before her eyes adjusted to reveal a canopy of trees above her, their limbs and palm leaves partially blocking the sunlight. The smell of earth flowers tickled her nostrils and she could feel the ground beneath her, soft dirt. The warmth of the breeze told her that it was probably around eighty degrees wherever she was at.

Come to think of it, where was she anyway? For some reason the forested area seemed familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place it. And, here was another question, why was she here anyway? The last time thing she remembered was talking to David at the SST party he was throwing, then she felt something rip through her shoulder, spin her around, and she was down on the ground in pain and feeling cold…David holding her, begging her to stay awake and stay with him…

And then she was here.

Violet suddenly bolted upright, scrambling to her feet before stumbling a couple steps because she was off balance. When regained her bearings, she looked down to see she was wearing jeans, sandals and a t-shirt…something that seemed out of place given the fact that she recognized where she was. It had been over eight years, but she knew this place.

Though she had only been here once, she remembered it all to well and had hoped that she would never be back on this island. Her first time as a "hero", though she spent most of it just trying to stay alive and there was nothing really heroic about it…just survival. A rusty metal object on the ground caught her attention and Violet recognized it was the charred remains of security sensor disguised as a mechanical parrot. From the looks of it, it was destroyed long ago and the rain and other elements had done a number on it.

_Then again,_ she thought, _it's been eight years._ _But here's another question…how did I get here? Shit, I hope this isn't Heaven or Hell…_

She heard laughter in the forest, but it wasn't mocking laughter. Instead, it sounded more out of amusement.

"Hello?" she called out.

"Despite your condition, I can assure you that you're not dead, young lady." It was a man's voice that yelled out to her. It was a cultured voice, she guessed either Western European or Northeast Coast US.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Out here on the beach."

Violet turned in the direction she heard the voice come from and saw a path that looked like it led to a clearing. She thought it kind of odd because she could have sworn that path wasn't there a couple seconds ago when she woke up here. She followed the path for about a minute before stepping onto the sand of a beach. The soft cool breeze hit her again while the sunlight warmed her skin. The scene in front of her was calm and serene…the crystal clear water washing up from the ocean on the pristine beach. It was almost like a snapshot of paradise and Violet was half tempted to just sit there and bask in the sunlight and enjoy the moment.

"It's tempting," she heard the voice say, "but your time here is limited." She turned in the direction of the voice and saw a man sitting on a log, reading a book, the smoldering remains of a campfire in front of him.

Violet studied the man as she approached him. The first thing she noticed was his red hair, but it wasn't flaming red like Buddy Pine's or David, it was more of a dark reddish-brown in color. He appeared to be in his early to mid-thirties, a slight muscular build, and Violet estimated his height to be about six and half feet if the man stood up.

The man didn't bother looking up at her when he spoke. "If you're through analyzing me and determining my threat level, Violet, please take a seat so we can talk." He gestured at another log as he closed his book and set it down at his feet before looking up at her.

Violet stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the face. It was kind of hard to forget the face of the man who, over a year ago, took over the airwaves and declared novas to be a separate species from humanity. Of course, it was also hard to forget his face when, only a month ago, her mother talked about their family's connection to him.

"Hello Violet," the man said, giving her a friendly smile. "I'm Divis Mal…your grandfather."


	34. Revelations and Omens I

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (still). The Incredibles, owned by Brad Bird and Pixar. Champions is owned by ICE (I think).

Author's Notes: Hey all...still sick...but blundering along and writing. As usual comments, criticisms, and the occasional threat is appreciated. As you can see, shit has hit the fan and the bloodbath is about to begin. I'm actually surprised that I've been able to update so quickly lately...I must get sick more often. And, as always, thanks to everyone who's stuck with me on this...Shannon, Zarthrax, the Plothook crew, Digimon Lantern, NullChronicler, Concolor, a bunch of others I can't remember, and that one person from the Russian Federation who seems to always hit my updates whenever they go up but never leaves a review (don't know who you are, but I'm glad you're still around). And now...on with the show.

* * *

_Think about it. We live in a world where people with godlike abilities exist and are pretty much an everyday part of our life. Oh sure, we had super-powered beings throughout the history of the modern world and I'm sure there were some that existed throughout history, but never have there been such a high concentration of these beings in recorded history. The current census count of known novas is about six thousand worldwide, and that doesn't count the ones we don't know about. As you know, the number rises every year, not by much but it still continues to grow. Some would say that this is something that has never happened before in world history and that civilization is on the steps of something great and about to step across the threshold and into a new 'golden age' for mankind._

_Yeah, I suppose that's possible, but I'll be the first to tell you that I believe those so called 'experts' and 'historians' might be as ignorant as they believe the people they talk down to in lecture halls to be._

_Just let me bounce a crazy idea off you for a moment. Let's go back a few thousand years, shall we? Let's take a look at, for example, Ancient Greece. Now I'm going to go off on a tangent here and let's say, for the sake of argument, that all that crap you heard about in Greek Mythology might be true. Yeah, I know, I can see some of you kids snickering or rolling your eyes, but I want you to suspend your disbelief for a moment and think about it._

_Imagine for a moment, you're a citizen of Ancient Greece and, as a lot of historians love to point out, you're part of an advanced society, at least for that time. It's an age of philosophers, scientists, artists, and, this is where I'm going to ask you to suspend your disbelief, mythological beings and creatures._

_Now some of you may scoff and go 'Yeah, okay, Professor Maynard, you've been smoking some of the pot they sell out of Marston Hall', but just hear me out on this. Imagine living back then in that kind of a setting...now jump back now to the present and tell me how different are the two settings, seriously. Because, you look at someone like Caestus Pax today, you know that someone from Ancient Greece would automatically see him as a god._

_Okay, now some of you can see where I'm going with this. Let's assume for a moment, that all those mythological gods and creatures you've read about did exist back in the day in some shape or form. You know what could mean, right? Maybe it means that what we've witnessed over the last few decades, particularly in the last eight years since the Galatea explosion, might have happened before. Granted, mankind's grasp on science has improved since then, but still, it's really not that much different. You take a look at various other cultures, the Ancient Greeks, the Mayans, the Norse, and some of the Asian Cultures...you will note a pattern in most of them. Gods and various mythological beings show up throughout that culture and, in the case of most of them, things culminate into some cataclysm that wipes them all out and brings mankind to the brink of destruction. Great Civilizations...gone...lost to history...and the human race has to rebuild from scratch, the past now nothing but memories or exaggerated stories that become myth and legend for our modern world._

_Funny thing about stories from mythology or even some old fairy tales...there usually is some real world basis or fact that inspired them and there could always be the possibility that there is more truth to them than we realize._

_Now here's the scary part...suppose I'm right about those Ancient Civilizations I mentioned. Suppose there was some sort of war or cataclysm...the gods went to war with each other, or mankind, and it resulted with them being wiped out and mankind descending into a dark age of some sort. If that's the case, how long do you think it will take before the cycle repeats itself again? How much time do you think we have left?_

_Just some crazy thought...that's all._

-From a lecture given at Western Washington University by Anthropology Professor Jason Maynard

* * *

_All men are born with a nose and ten fingers, but no one was born with a knowledge of God_.

-Voltaire

* * *

_**Somewhere**_

_**Unknown**_

"Why am I here?" Violet wasn't sure if that was what she wanted to say, but the question seemed to be the only coherent statement she could come up with out of the dozens of other things running through her mind at the moment.

Divis Mal smiled at her. It wasn't an evil smile, more like that of a teacher observing their student as they tried to figure out a problem. "Many philosophers ask themselves that question, Violet," Mal said as he picked up a stick and poked around at the smoldering fire. "And, very few have even managed to formulate something that could even remotely be considered an answer."

Violet's eyes narrowed. "You're not going to be all cryptic on me, are you? Because I really hate cryptic and I don't want whatever this is to be all cryptic and mysterious, especially since I'm dying." She paused for a moment as she considered what she had just said. "Wait…I am dying, right? I think I was shot."

"You were," Mal said. "And you're right; you're still dying, but not dead."

"Okay…now that we've established that part, I am now here on a beach talking to some super-powered terrorist leader who happens to be my grandfather…no offense."

"None taken."

"And, for the record, for a senior citizen, you're pretty well preserved."

Mal chuckled at that. "Yes, well, what can I say; old fashioned clean living, I suppose." The he gestured at the island. "Do you know where we are?"

"Well, if you want a smart-ass answer; I'm trapped in some limbo like state which looks a lot like an island I hoped never to come back to," Violet replied. "A rational answer; I'm not sure but I could say this is just a bad dream and I'm imagining all this. But it's not a dream, is it?"

"No," Mal said, shaking his head. "We are a communicating via genetic/telepathic link because we are in similar states. This island is…well…I chose this place because it's important."

"Oh yeah, this island is very important," Violet snorted, "it's where I took my first steps as a hero and spent most of the day running for my life, getting shot at, captured, tortured, escaping, fighting a crazy robot trying to destroy a city, and then ending said day by watching a psychotic mad man get sucked into a jet engine after he tried to kidnap a family member. Oh yeah…this island is very important to me…not."

"This island is where you pushed yourself, truly embraced who and what you were, and began to evolve into something more that what you were," Mal countered.

"Again, you're being cryptic…I hate cryptic."

Mal smiled again. "Doesn't make it any less true does it?"

"No, I suppose it doesn't," Violet admitted once she thought about it. "But what did you mean when we said that we were in similar states? You didn't get shot, did you?"

"No," Mal replied, picking up a few pieces of driftwood to put on the fire which started to come back to life a little. "What do you know about novas or, as you call them, "supers" in general?"

"Well, according to some experts, the power comes from something called a MR-node that can be found in the brains of some humans and triggering it some way gives us our powers, which manifests through some sort of stimulus applied to the subject, usually in a stressful situation."

"A crude 'laymen's' attempt for scientists to try to classify or explain what they truly have not even begun to understand," Mal said, shaking his head. "I do not mean to belittle their progress, but they've only had a few years exposed to this phenomenon while I've had nearly a century. They've only scratched the surface and, if they're not careful, they could trigger a disaster that could wipe out over ninety-nine percent of the world's population…again."

* * *

_**Metroville General**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Bridgette stood there for a moment, studying Violet Parr's vital signs as they were displayed on the flat-screen monitor above Violet's bed. The readings were faint, but stable, but brain activity was minimal. It could be argued that's what was expected from someone in a coma, and Bridgette tended to agree with it. Coma patients were probably the hardest to predict. Some would wake up, others did not, and others were simply taken off life support and allowed to die.

_And no one really knows which category you fall into, _Bridgette thought. She looked down at the small vial she held in her hand, staring at the silvery liquid within it, momentarily mesmerized by it's hypnotic and fluid movement.

For a moment, she was tempted to just put the vial back in her coat pocket and walk out. Her father hadn't approved of this; hell, he didn't even know. Her father was still down the hall arguing with the Parrs and Dicker over the possibility of using the experimental nanites on Violet. The mother was dead set against it and Bridgette's father, while reluctant, was willing to accept that decision. Bridgette had felt the same way…until she had a conversation with Violet's younger brother, Jack.

"Fuck ethics," the nine year old told her, "this is my sister we're talking about."

Bridgette couldn't suppress a smile at that, amused at Jack's comment and the fact that the kid seemed to act a few more years older than he actually was. After that discussion, it left her wondering if maybe Jack was right. Bridgette was certain the nanites would work, programming and setting the parameters was easy…she could do it in her sleep.

Then Flynn showed up at the hospital, his body experiencing some sort of seizure before also slipping into a coma. She could hear some of the SST people that were lurking around mumbling something about "Utopia taking two of us down in less than a day". There was some talk from Zoe Kilmarten about doing an all out cyber attack on Utopia and there were some who backed her, but it was the Native American man called Null who seemed to restore order.

Null was an enigma to her. He claimed to be a "janitor" and he did routine maintenance around the facility, but there was something about him that made it clear that he held some authority that ranked right up there with Flynn and Violet. She had assumed Null, ultimately, was head of security but it was Jake Peters who held that position at the company. She finally decided that Null was a "floater" and went wherever David needed him, which made the man even more dangerous.

And yet, while this rag-tag bunch of nova intellectuals could be dangerous, Bridgette was starting to wonder if the way the Utopia backed media portrayed Flynn's group was biased. Most of the news media portrayed Flynn and his company as a "glorified band of cyber-pirates hiding under a corporate brand" and, at first, Bridgette pretty much saw them that way as well. But she didn't see that with these people. Sure, some of the SST personnel were amoral when it came to some things, but they treated her with respect and as if she were one of them…something she wasn't accustomed to. Some of them knew of her professional accomplishments and even pulled her into a discussion group over the concept of coding algorithms and cybernetics. Whenever she attended a social gathering with her fellow scientists in the past, many regarded her as a 'freak' or an 'arrogant child meddling in a field she couldn't possibly understand'. But the SST crew, in her very short time with them, made her feel like she belonged. Granted, she still didn't think much of Flynn, but she couldn't deny that he truly cared about his employees as if they were family. With both Flynn and Violet down, Bridgette could sense the tension. The SST crew lost two of their own and they wanted blood.

Then David Flynn woke up the next day.

At first, Bridgette thought Flynn would back down from his crusade with Utopia, but the conversation she overheard between Null and Flynn made it clear that things were just heating up.

"_I was set up, Null. They wanted me to hack their mainframe."_

"_What makes you so sure?"_

"_The fact they had a 'soul-killer' in place and they were expecting me."_

"_Whoa…hold on…David, that shit is a myth. The only one who has anything like that is you."_

"_Yeah, and I told you to keep it hidden from me and be ready to use it in case…in case I end up like HIM."_

"_And I did that. David, believe me, there's no way anyone could have found it or gotten a hold of it."_

"_They didn't get a hold of it, Null. Someone created their own version of it, and it did more than take me down; all those computer networks that went down worldwide just before I woke up…that was from that program. It wasn't just designed to kill me; it was designed to melt down any computer that tries to hack it. I'm talking about someone who can crash the whole system and, given what I know of her, she wouldn't mind doing it just for shits and grins. We managed to destroy this one, but I'm willing to bet she's working on another one."_

"_Wait, you know who this is?"_

"_Oh yeah, the bitch practically left her fingerprints all over the coding algorithms…she wanted me to know who it was that killed me."_

"_David...I know that look…what are you going to do?"_

"_Stop her…permanently, before she does anymore damage."_

"_Are you sure that's wise?"_

"_Null, it's not just me who's in danger. There are other novas out there with my ability; Except for maybe one other person, none of them are up to my level. If she can take me down like that, imagine what she could do the others and she won't just stop there. She gets off on this stuff."_

"_So, I ask you again, what are you going to do?"_

"_I'm going to personally take care of it."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Null, I know you do the dirty work most of the time, but this one's mine."_

"_David, as your friend, I have to remind you that this is something HE would do, not you."_

"_That's where you're wrong, Null. Unlike HIM, I'm not a cold blooded killer…I prefer to leave my victims suffering in painful torment and regretting they ever crossed me._"

That conversation kept playing through her mind as she drove back to her father's lab and took a vial of the nanites from the containment unit. Programming it with Violet Parr's medical data was easy enough and she was back at the hospital within a couple hours. Slipping into the young woman's room was easy enough since the Parr family were arguing with Dicker, Bridgette's father, and each other.

"It's amusing, you know that?" Bridgette said, looking down at Violet for a moment before focusing her attention on putting the vial's contents into a syringe. "You're obviously not on an intellectual level with Flynn and his crew, but I can see why he made you his VP. You're a brake on him, the rational voice that keeps him from crossing the line, and he respects that."

The only response from Violet was her steady breathing and the occasional beeping from the equipment monitoring her condition.

"I'll be honest with you," Bridgette continued, "I didn't like you and the SST crew. I pretty much bought the story that you people were a bunch of cocky renegade novas flipping off Utopia and standing in the way of progress." Then she smirked, "I guess you still are, but now I'm wondering, after everything that's happened in the last two days, if that might be a good thing." She picked up one of the IV lines and carefully hooked the syringe of nanites up to it. "I just want you to know that this isn't Flynn's idea. Yes, he wanted my father here to offer this option to your parents, but they seem too torn to make a decision. In the meantime, your condition isn't changing and the doctors say it will just get worse over time." She held her thumb over the plunger, looking down at Violet. "I know what I'm doing is unethical and against everything I believe in. But I also believe you deserve a fighting chance and…as one of your brothers said to me recently…'fuck ethics'."

Bridgette's thumb pushed the plunger and she watched the silvery substance shoot into the IV line and into Violet's body. She quickly pulled the syringe out of the IV line and had just put it in her pocket when the instruments suddenly started screaming.

"Code Blue!" she heard someone shout from outside. The cry was echoed by others and she could hear people running down the hall towards the room.

She looked up and saw Violet's readings suddenly flat-line, her eyes widening in horror at the thought that she might have made the wrong decision.

_Oh god, _she thought was a doctor and a couple EMTs ran into the room, _what have I done?_

* * *

_**Somewhere**_

_**Unknown**_

"Whoa…hold on…'again'? Did I hear you say 'again'? What do you mean 'again'?"

Instead of answering right away, Divis Mal stood up and turned to look at the island. "This island, Violet, is more than what you believe it to be. It holds secrets that many people will never understand and others would kill to get a hold of or hide from the world." He turned to look at her again. "David Pine Flynn knows this…at least on some level even though he is not fully aware of it yet. However, that is for another time. But going back to the subject at hand…novas, like us, are constantly evolving beings. We have an MR node that allows us to manipulate some of the core components that make up the universe. Sometimes, novas can push themselves to a point where their abilities tend to 'mutate' and, in the opinions of some, sometimes disfigure them. For example, some might take unusual physical attributes…like your father for instance."

"What about my dad?" Violet asked, getting a little defensive.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but your father, no doubt, probably pushed himself past his limits…then again, that is to be expected of someone who sees himself as a 'hero'. And believe me when I say that I'm not demeaning what he does, because your father and others are part of a dying breed who truly believe they are doing the right thing instead of pretending to be altruistic and collecting a paycheck for it."

"If my father hadn't 'pushed' himself, as you put it, innocents could have died."

Mal held up a hand defensively and nodded. "Again, I'm not demeaning what he and others like him have done but, in case you haven't noticed, your father does sort of stand out among baselines even as he pretends to be one of them. Exaggerated musculature, his immense size…if there weren't so many novas running around these days, he would have brought suspicion on himself and the rest of you. Because he pushed himself, he tapped into extra energy from his MR-node without properly bleeding it off, and therefore, it caused changes to his physiology. Some studying this field have a term for it and, sadly, it's catching in the mainstream these days. They call it 'taint'. Sometimes, it's not just physical; it could be mental and psychological." He paused for a moment as he saw his granddaughter sitting there on a log, a thoughtful look on her face. "I must say, you seem to be taking this pretty well."

Violet shrugged. "No, actually, it does make sense in a way. Does this explain why some supers tend to suddenly go bat-shit insane or have sudden personality shifts?"

Mal lightly clapped his hands in mock applause. "Bravo, Violet, bravo…you finally get it. Although, there have been miscreants who were already mentally unstable before they erupted and gained their powers." He smiled at her again. "After all, in the words of your David Flynn, 'Caestus Pax was born a douchebag, his gaining powers only made him a bigger one'."

Violet couldn't help laughing at that. "Okay, you have a point…but how does this concern me and my current problem?"

"You've entered a state which others, including myself, termed 'chrysalis'; it's where a nova's abilities begin to enhance and evolve further under a more controlled state. For some, it's kind of a meditative state intentionally brought on. It's not unlike being in a coma, but you have a sense of awareness. Sometimes, such a condition could be force…like-"

"Like when I got shot," Violet said, finishing her grandfather's sentence.

Mal shook his head. "Not exactly," he said. "You slipped into a coma, but you didn't enter Chysalis until someone injected you with something."

"What!" Violet shouted angrily, jumping to her feet. "Why?"

"No doubt they thought they were trying to save you, and I must admit that what you were injected with intrigues me." Mal reached over and gently took one of Violet's hands into his, turning it so he could look at her wrist. "Why, hello there," he said, lightly brushing a finger over some of the blood vessels that could be seen just beneath Violet's skin on her wrist.

"What are you…" Violet's voice trailed off when she saw the veins start to turn a silvery color; then her skin started to take on a silvery tint which started to continue up her arm. It was a warm tingling sensation that was surprising at first, but didn't feel unpleasant. "Um, what's going on?"

Mal, for his part, seemed curious at what he was witnessing. "Normally I would say that you were infected with a dangerous agent, Violet, but I know what this is or at least encountered something like it before. My advice for you is not to panic, but we don't have much time."

"Time…time for what?" Violet asked, glancing down to notice that her legs were now taking on a silvery sheen. And yes…she was starting to panic. "What's happening to me?"

"Violet," Mal said softly. "I want you to listen to me, but I fear this intrusion is going to cut things short. There's much you need to know, but I can't tell you now." He suddenly grabbed Violet's wrist, tightly grasping it.

"Hey!" Violet winced as she felt something burn into her arm. Instinctively, she pulled her arm away, looking down at her wrist and saw an elaborate symbol burned into it like a brand on now silvery skin. Then the symbol vanished.

"Remember that symbol, Violet…look for it." Mal's voice seemed far away now. Violet looked up at him and noticed that he was gone. The beach was still there, as was the small campfire which was burning steadily now. However, the water coming from the ocean now looked like silvery liquid metal that washed up the beach, rushing up where Violet was at. Some of the silvery mass washed into the fire, but instead of putting it out, the flames seemed to burn more intensely; it was almost as if someone had thrown of fuel onto it. Suddenly, she felt a sharp burning pain in her back, causing her to cry out and drop to her knees just as a silvery tidal wave rushed into her, the hot tingling sensation burning its way through her entire body. The world around her vanished in a bright burning light and she screamed again.

* * *

_**Metroville General**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Bridgette stood in the corner of the room as she watched the doctors and several medical technicians surround Violet's bed.

_What have I done?_

Even though it was less than a minute, she must have repeated the question a few dozen times over and over in her head.

"Crank it up," one of the doctors said as he prepped a defibrillator. "Clear!"

_What happened? It shouldn't have flatlined her like that._

"We need more juice...Clear!"

"What's going on here?" Helen Parr yelled. "Violet, no!" She tried to run to her daughter's side but was held back by her husband.

"Get her out of here!" the doctor snapped, not bothering to look up as he readied the defibrillator for another charge. "Clea-"

The doctor and his crew were suddenly thrown away from Violet's bed as a purple force-field bubble exploded outward, knocking them and various medical equipment to the floor as the young woman in the in the bed writhed around and screamed in agony for a couple seconds before going limp again. The monitors on the wall flashed to life, displaying all sort of activity going on in the patient's body.

"What the hell is going on here?" The doctor snapped. By now, Bridgette's father walked into the room, followed by David Flynn and NSA Director Dicker.

One of the med-techs tapped on the screen of the video monitor, bringing up more detailed information on Violet's condition. "Shit...um..Doctor, what's this?"

The doctor looked at the three dimensional schematic of Violet's body. Bridgette could tell that the man was trying to figure out what the readings were saying, but she had no such difficulty since she knew what was happening.

_The off color flaring around her spinal column...it's similar to the forcefields she could generate. Oh my god...the nanites...they got into MR-node and they're using her power to create a 'framework' of the damaged body-parts...so they can flow and form with it!_

"Um...doc," this was from one of the other med-techs. "According to this, her spinal-chord and damaged muscle tissue are regrowing."

That's when Bridgette's father made eye contact with her and he knew what she had done. There was a conflict of emotion rippling across his features as he stared at her with a mixture of outrage and understanding.

"Okay, everyone out," barked Dicker who, after a quick glance at Bridgette and her father, realized what was going on. "Everyone, but the doctor and Mr. Saunders here."

David and the Parrs left the room, followed by the med-techs. Bridgette was about to follow them out, but her father grabbed her by the arm. "We need to talk about this, Bridgette," he said, "but not now."

* * *

"You bastard!"

David expected a response like that from Helen Parr and intentionally made sure he was at least ten feet away from her just in case she accompanied those words with a physical attack.

"You did this!"

Unfortunately, he forgot the obvious fact that, with her powers, Helen Parr had no problem punching him in the jaw, the blow knocking him to the floor.

_Note to self, remember to be at least forty feet away next time, not ten!_

David got up off the floor, rubbing his jaw. He was about to say something, but saw Director Dicker shake his head in warning as he and Bob Parr tried to get the distraught (and pissed off) mother to calm down.

"Helen, calm down," Dicker said.

"Like hell! That little shit did something to her…injected her with that crap…"

David had enough. He wasn't sure if it was Helen Parr's anger towards him, Violet nearly dying, or the fact that someone had tried to turn him into a vegetable in cyberspace, but he decided it was time to call the bitch out. "Okay, that's it, Director Dicker…Mr. Parr, let her go."

"Now's not the time to settle grudges, kid."

"Who said anything about settling grudges, old man," David countered. He then looked over at Bob. "Mr. Parr, I know you don't care much for me, but at least you were willing to hear me out and give me a chance. For that, I'm grateful. But since you're wife wants to be a bitch and try to finish the job her son started to do on me…go ahead and let her."

"This is not the time or place," Bob snarled. "Perhaps it would be best if you left."

"Believe me, Mr. Parr, I'll be going shortly, but not until I know status of Vi's condition. Now, let your wife go and let her resume her tantrum. She wants to treat me like the criminal scum she used to beat the shit out of back in the day, fine."

"You couldn't just leave it alone, could you?" Helen said as she slipped out of her husband's grip. "First she gets shot because of you and then you dosed her with that experimental crap while distracting us with this flunky Doctor of yours?"

"I was called in as a favor to David, Mrs. Parr," Aaron Saunders snapped as he stepped of Violet's room to join them. "And I can assure you that his intentions were good."

"Nothing from that bloodline is good, Doctor."

David gave the woman a cold smirk. "Oh yeah," he said, flicking his right wrist and powering up the ZP-bracer on his arm. "You and Dash the drama queen are good examples of what's 'good'."

"Stop it! Both of you!"

Everyone turned in the direction of the new voice to see Bridgette Saunders standing there, holding up a used syringe. "First off, Mrs. Parr, don't blame Flynn. He didn't know." She tossed the syringe on the ground between the two of them. "If you want to blame anyone, blame me. While all of you were arguing over the ethics of whether you should or shouldn't, she was dying in there and getting worse."

"You shouldn't have done that, Bridgette," Doctor Saunders said, shaking his head in disapproval at his daughter's actions. "We hadn't set the proper parameters and protocols for administering the treatment."

"It wasn't that hard, Dad. Programming the nanos with Violet's biometric algorithms was easy enough. All one had to do to get that was link them up to the system monitoring her condition and then cross referencing her file from her latest physical check-up."

"Do you realize how many laws you've broken?"

"I don't care, Dad." Bridgette's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at her father. "As for the physical protocols, it wasn't that hard to replicate the information from one of your earlier projects. You know the one…the project you tried to keep hidden from everyone, including the people who hired you to originally create it?"

Saunders' face paled. "No," he said softly, "Bridgette…please tell me you didn't."

"Didn't do what? Find your Cyberline formula equations?"

Bridgette's admission/accusation caused a curious reaction among the others. Doctor Saunders paled at his daughter's revelation while Dicker looked like he had seen a ghost.

However, it was David's response that pretty much summed up what Dicker and Saunders were thinking.

"Oh...fuck no."


	35. Revelations and Omens II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird does. Don't own Champions...Iron Crown does (I think).

Author's Notes: *Yawn* Another update. Just for the record, don't like doing dramatic angst well, but, alas...it's a tool that has to be utilized some time. As usual, thanks goes to the normal group of suspects. Rubypaladin, Null, Pegasuscrystal, Nullchronicler, Shannon K, Zarthrax and the Plothook crew, Concolor, Author of Lies, that one guy from Russia who almost always hits this fic when it updates, and everyone else I can't remember at the moment. I also blame Best Buy for selling those old seasons of the classic "Mission: Impossible" series for ten bucks. Been getting some bizarre ideas...

* * *

**Arena: Global**

**Author: Justin J. Laragione**

**Author's Title: Director, Project Utopia**

**Subject: David Flynn and Metroville, California**

**Urgency Level: Urgent**

**Minimum Security Rating: Beta**

_Effective immediately, all Utopia surveillance teams and nova operatives are to withdraw from Metroville, California and relocate to our operation in Los Angeles. Due to recent incidents beyond our control, David Flynn has taken a hostile position in regards to us and we do not need to do anything to anger him any further. For the time being, he seems to have ceased his attacks against us, but we do not need to give him an excuse to attack us again._

_I am hopeful that we can negotiate some sort of settlement. While I am certain that we would prevail in a conflict against Flynn and his associates, I am also aware that such a conflict would weaken us and leave open for attack from other enemies such as the Teragen, Church of Michael, or any government military force wanting to take us down because they see us as a "threat" to their rights as a "sovereign nation"._

_I also want to point out that, due to the recent incidents and the decline in popularity of the incumbent mayor, there is a possibility that Metroville may elect a new mayor and replace key city council members who are less than supportive of our goals._

_On another note, it has been brought to my attention that one Doctor Aaron Saunders, a roboticist from UCLA, was seen in contact with David Flynn. Begin surveillance on the doctor's lab when he returns to Los Angeles. Do not, I repeat, do NOT, engage in any surveillance activity on the doctor while he is Metroville. We do not want to run the risk of attracting any more attention from Flynn._

* * *

_**Metroville General Hospital**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**2 November 2006**_

Helen Parr's anger momentarily dissipated as she saw David Flynn join Doctor Saunders and Dicker in disbelief. "Cyberline, what's that?" she asked.

Dicker, to his credit, was the first to recover and was immediately on his cell-phone. "Have a team on stand-by," he said, "we may have to modify several memories here." He closed the phone and then looked at Saunders. "Cyberline, huh? I don't recall you being commissioned by us to do that."

Saunders' shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fifteen years ago, PRIMUS approached me and gave me a sample of their current Cyberline serum. I was charged with the task of breaking it down and trying to recreate the original formula. It was a failure and the project was scrapped."

"That's not true, Dad, and you know it." Bridgette stepped forward, stopping a couple feet from her father. "You cracked the formula, but reported failed results. This formula could have been modified; it could have cured many diseases."

"Or caused many more deaths," David Flynn countered. "Do you really think your father's employers had altruistic intentions when they had him work on the formula?"

"Not everything is a conspiracy, Flynn." Despite the words, Bridgette wasn't too sure. She had seen too much in the last couple days that shook what she believed.

"Again, I ask, what is Cyberline?" Helen asked, irritation seeping into her voice.

"The short version, it's a super-soldier serum," David replied. "The original formula is what created The Golden Avenger. It maximizes the human body to their physical peak. The formula was lost when the people who created it were killed and their facility was destroyed. There were attempts to recreate it, but they weren't as successful as the original."

"There were certain proteins that could not be properly developed or applied to create a stabilized matrix. The compound would still degrade and have to be replenished." Saunders then looked at his daughter. "And I had other concerns, Bridgette. If I hadn't helped them, they would have used you against me to force me into helping them."

"Yep, that sounds about right for any government organization, forcing cooperation via intimidation," David said.

"Careful, boy," Dicker growled in warning.

"I rest my case." Then David looked over at Saunders. "Your nanotech experiments…you were able to program them to adapt and 'fill in the gaps', weren't you?"

"Yes, but I knew releasing the formula would cause a new arms race of sorts. Suppose I had given PRIMUS my research. I have no doubt our government would start cranking out super-soldiers by now if I had." Saunders shook his head again. "I only wanted to fix things in the world, not create new weapons."

"And you injected that stuff in my daughter?" Helen's rage had returned. "What gives you the right?"

"Hate to say it, Bridgette," David said, "I have to agree with her on this one. You had no right."

"Oh please," Bridgette laughed bitterly, "spare me the hypocrisy. Do you really expect me to believe that you wouldn't have done the same thing? After all, isn't that why you called my father in?"

"It was only meant to be an option and it had to be with consent from her family."

"C'mon Flynn, you're full of it. Look me in the eye and tell me that you weren't planning on injecting her with the nanos with or without consent. Tell me that you were perfectly willing to let her slowly die like that." Then her eyes narrowed as more venom crept into her voice. "Tell me that you weren't willing to commit a murder if she didn't make it."

"What?" Helen couldn't believe what she was hearing. None of this was making sense to her. She looked over at David Flynn and saw his usual smug manner fade into a cold dead mask.

David brought a finger up in warning and pointed at Bridgette. "You stay out of my head," he snapped.

Helen felt a hand on her shoulder. "Stay out of this, Helen," she heard her husband whisper softly.

"Bob, what's going on?"

Before Bob could reply, the doctor stepped out of Violet's room, shaking his head in disbelief. "Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Parr," he said, "I'm not sure what happened, but your daughter's condition has stabilized and she is awake."

* * *

David watched the Parrs follow the doctor into Violet's room, Dicker and Doctor Saunders trailing behind them. He was tempted to go as well but realized it probably would only agitate the situation. Besides, he was pissed off that the moment and it was taking a good measure of self-restraint to keep from ripping into the current object of his ire. Although, to be honest, Bridgette Saunders surprised him; he never would have expected her to do what she did. However, that still didn't change the fact that, because of what she was, she was able to randomly pick up thoughts from his mind.

_Gotta' remember to control my thinking and shield it from her._

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath before opening them again. "You got lucky, Bridgette," he finally said, "but even you don't know what the full effects are, do you?"

"It saved her life."

"Did it?" he asked. "And…just for the record, since when did you care? I mean, after all, a couple days ago you were all Pro-Utopia and thought we were the scum of the earth."

"Do you really have that low of an opinion of people like me? People who really want to make the world a better place?"

"Depends on what definition you go by, Bridgette. People like you, I have no problem with. You want to change the world, make it better and relieve suffering…that's great. The problem is that people like you are too quick to ally yourselves with groups who may not have the best intentions." David shook his head and smiled sadly at her. "I would have thought the last couple days opened your eyes to some things."

"They did," Bridgette said, "but not everyone who believes in Project Utopia's objectives is evil."

"No," David sighed, "just the people calling the shots. People like you are just pawns, a convenient smoke screen to hide behind."

"And would you mind explaining to me how that makes you different from the people you claim to be fighting against?"

"I never lied about myself, who I was, or what my intentions are."

"But you don't tell them everything, do you?" Bridgette glared at David when she asked the question, daring him to answer.

"Of course not," David replied, "but I make sure they know what they need to know. If I revealed everything I knew, half the world would think I'm crazy and the other half would go ape-shit because of the global rape-job they're getting at Utopia's hands. You may want to plunge the world into war and chaos prematurely, but I don't."

"Fine," Bridgette said, "if you're going to tell people what they need to know, then tell me this; why can I hear your thoughts from time to time? What are you not telling me? Even now, I'm hearing whispers, but you're garbling them intentionally...how? And why?"

Again, David Flynn's demeanor changed. Anger and determination were replaced by sadness as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bridgette," he said, "but it's not my story to tell. You want answers, talk to your father."

"My father? Why?"

Instead of giving her answer, David turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Bridgette asked. "Answer my questions."

"Why should I?" David asked, stopping but not turning around. "As I said, it's not my secret to tell. But I will ask you this." He glanced over his shoulder in her direction. "When you learn the truth, will you accept it or will you let it break you?"

He then continued to walk away, leaving a confused Bridgette Saunders in the waiting area wondering what he meant by that.

* * *

"Mom? Dad?"

Though her daughter's voice was cracked as she rasped those words, Helen felt a sense of relief that Violet was awake. "I'm right here, baby," Helen said, tears running down her face as she grasped her daughter's hand before glancing over at her husband who was on the other side the bed.

"We both are," Bob said.

"I was…" Violet blinked a couple times as she tried to struggle to put the words together. "I was shot. David…where's David…?"

Helen's relief briefly gave way to rage again at the mention of David Flynn's name. "He's not here," she snapped.

"Should be…have to…have to tell him…warn him about…about…" Violet's eyes fluttered closed and she dosed off.

"She's fallen asleep," the doctor examining Violet said. "She's still pretty weak, but she will recover." Then he shook his head as he looked at one of the monitors displaying Violet's rapidly healing injuries. "I understand that this is some sort of advanced medical technology," he said, "but I've never seen anything like it."

Richard Dicker cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, Doctor Travis, was it?"

"Yes."

"I would like you to come with me for a few minutes, please."

"But the patient-"

"Will be under the care of Doctor Saunders here," Dicker said, cutting off the man's objections. "Now, just take a walk with me…we need to talk about some security issues."

Reluctantly, the doctor accompanied Dicker out of the room while Saunders began to tap on a keyboard and pull up various windows on the monitor.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" Helen hissed.

"First off, Mrs. Parr," Saunders said without looking away from the monitor, "I had nothing to do with Violet's current situation. What my daughter did was wrong, but we can't undo it. Second, if you know of anyone else who knows about nanotechnology and has a pretty good idea about controlling them, shutting them down, or merely making sure they don't suddenly go out of control and turn your daughter into some sort of sort of cybernetic monster, then be my guest. Otherwise, shut up, let me fix this, and stay the hell out of my way." He paused for a moment, arching an eyebrow in surprise. "Interesting...it would seem the nanos have broken down into various groups and assumed different sets of functions. One being bone and tissue repair, another group doing nerve repair, blood…oh…my…god…" He looked up at Helen and Bob. "When Dicker returns, we need to get her out of here and relocated somewhere away from the public."

"That would be general idea, doctor," Helen sneered, "preferably away from you, Flynn, and everyone else."

Saunders shook his head. "Mrs. Parr, you really don't get it. We need to get your daughter away from the public eye for at least a month. Already, I would suspect word is out that some new treatment is being used and my presence has been noted. If your daughter were to walk out of here under own power tomorrow, it would raise eyebrows."

"What are you talking about?" Bob asked. "What exactly did you do to our daughter?"

Saunder sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before he answered. "Mr. Parr, please do not insult my intelligence. I am aware that your daughter, like your entire family, is a nova. However, I also understand that Violet's abilities were fairly specific. I'm guessing invisibility and limited quantum field manipulation, correct?"

"That's really none of your damn business."

"Helen, please," Bob said, "this is not the time."

"I really don't know why you're upset with Flynn, Mrs. Parr and, to quote you, it's really none of my damn business. But I want to make one thing perfectly clear." Aaron Saunders straightened up and looked Helen in the eye, his face an expression of cold resolve and determination. "David Pine Flynn is not his father. If he were, he probably would have killed me by now and stolen my research. As for your daughter's condition, the nanites are repairing your daughter's injuries, a large number of the nanites replacing the damaged bone and tissue with nano constructs. Those replicating and replacing the damaged tissue have gone permanently inert after accomplishing their objectives. The rest are executing some sort of 'overall repair' protocol before they self terminate and break down into proteins to be used by the body."

"My god, you make it sound like she's a machine being repaired," Helen snarled.

"Technically speaking, the human body is a machine," Saunders countered calmly, not even flinching from the glare the angry mother gave him. "However, Violet's not a machine. She's a young woman who suffered a terrible ordeal. And while we may have dealt with the physical injuries, I doubt we'll have done much with the mental trauma of it." He then gave Helen a humorless grin. "Oh, that's right, you're supers...mental trauma doesn't affect you."

Helen looked like she was about to lunge forward and slap the man. But she didn't; instead, she looked at the monitor displaying her daughter's condition. "Tell me something, _Doctor,_" she said, "what would you do if someone put those machines in YOUR daughter?"

Saunders didn't answer and Helen looked up to see the man standing there, a dark look on his face. It was obvious that her remark hit a nerve. However, she was not prepared for the response she got from him.

"I would hope, Mrs. Parr, that she would forgive me or, at least, understand why I did it."

At first, Helen hadn't realized what the man had just said. Then the realization hit her when he saw the look of regret on his face as he turned and walked out of the room.

_Oh my god...he used this stuff on his own daughter?_

* * *

_**Aeon Building**_

_**Chicago, Illinois**_

Phillipa Lavielle always prided herself on being able to project a cool and controlled façade, but that tended to be easy for her since she had a cold and calculating mindset to begin with. However, there were times where she had to force herself to put on that face when things didn't go her way. And while that tended to impress most people who were only casually acquainted with her, it didn't fool those who worked directly with her.

Most of the Aeon Society's inner circle knew that the calmer and quieter Phillipa got, the more dangerous she was to be around. When she had succeeded her Uncle Phillip as Director of the organization, very few had known at the time that the young woman had worked as a "cleaner" for Aeon, quietly covering up or outright eliminating problems within the organization. Many people assumed she was just "born royalty", born into the Lavielle family, ivy-league educated, and high society socialite who served some fancy sounding post but really did nothing and collected a paycheck for it. No one suspected little blonde debutante had no problem acting like a spoiled air headed rich brat while calmly analyzing a target and deciding if she should shoot them outright, break their neck after luring them to a hotel room, or merely grabbing a fork and shoving it through their eye and into their cranial cavity.

Until she came to power…and everything changed.

It was no secret as to how her Uncle Phillip died. He had lost his nerve, he was about to reveal secrets to the outside world, and Thetis had arranged to have him executed and used as a warning to anyone else who might be foolish enough to think about spilling Aeon secrets. Granted, there were quite a few who were opposed to silencing Phillip the way it was done, but they didn't really object too much about it either. Those same people also thought that putting her in her uncle's former position as a figurehead while they truly ran the show from behind the scenes was a brilliant idea.

Unfortunately, they realized too late that she was not the air-headed socialite princess she pretended to be.

The vote wasn't entirely unanimous though. Margaret Mercer had abstained from the vote (she just didn't show up, citing that her research was too important and most of the Aeon board members didn't want to deal with her anyway); Anton Xerek, Melissa St. Claire, and Jason Miller opposed it. Xerek cited inexperience for his objection, as did St. Claire (though Phillipa sensed there was something else).

Jason Miller, on the other hand, was a different story; his objection in the vote was very vocal (his actual words were along the line of 'no fucking way').

And now, it was Jason Miller, Aeon board member (and member of the Proteus Council), who was the target of her rage. He hadn't said anything yet to incite her anger, but his smug grin and the easy-going manner in which he calmly entered her office and took a seat immediately infuriated her before he even said a word. She tried to do a mind-scan on him and found nothing, which meant the little shit had some device on him that was blocking her scans. After taking a few more seconds to pretend she was finishing up some on-line work, she closed up the e-mail she was working on and looked up at Miller who still did nothing but sit there and grin at her.

"Well," she finally said, "are you going to say something or just grin at me like a moron?"

Miller sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his light brown hair. "Ah, _Director_ Lavielle," Phillipa noted the hint of sarcasm on the word 'Director' when Miller spoke. "Where do you want me to begin?" He drummed his fingers on the arm rest of his chair for a couple seconds before pausing to examine his fingertips. "First, let's talk about the SST shooting."

"What about it?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and neutral.

Miller chuckled, shaking his head again. "Wow, that's impressive," he said. "Seriously, if I didn't know what kind of a cold, calculating, and heartless bitch you really are, I'd actually buy the clueless act." He leaned back in his chair, relaxing in it as if he were in his own office. "At first, I thought that you…or maybe Thetis…sanctioned it, but I realized that neither of you are that sloppy."

"How astute of you," Phillipa snapped. "Is there going to be a point to this or are you just here to be a pompous ass?"

"Oh, there's a point, the pompous ass part is just the fringe benefit. You see, the hit on Flynn…I'm thinking that was personal given who was involved, but I couldn't believe someone like Brian Paladino, with his ability, could screw up such a shot like that. I mean, his vision is like that of an eagle, there's no way he could have missed Flynn and I know he wouldn't have shot at Violet Parr like that given his family's connection to the Parrs. No, I'm thinking he might have been compromised somehow."

"And you think I was involved with that?"

"Were you?"

"Is there proof that I was?"

Miller laughed. "Of course not," he said. "Witnesses place you at your family chateau on the outskirts of Montreal when the shooting took place. You hosted a large masquerade party for some charity…the bar had some really good Scotch that night."

"You were there?"

"Of course, it was a party and, given my father's reputation, I'm supposed to be a chip off the old block and act like a rich playboy. Of course, you didn't bother with me…after all, you had a few guys dressed up in chainmail to pose as royal guards at your party, I'm certain you didn't notice an extra one walking around."

Despite her anger, Phillipa couldn't help laughing at that. "Very good," she said, slowly clapping in mock applause, "I have to give you credit. Not many people have the balls to pull the stunt you did."

"True, but I also noticed that you seemed to have disappeared for a little bit at the party. Oh, I'm sure everyone else probably thought you were someplace else in the chateau…it's a very big place and you had so many people there. It would have been easy to slip away."

"Wait…hold on…you're saying I slipped out of the party which was in Eastern Canada, somehow sneaked off to Metroville, California…on the west coast of the United States…had something to do with the shooting of Violet Parr, and then came back to the party in Montreal."

"Yeah," Miller laughed, nodding his head. "That's it. Sounds pretty stupid doesn't it?"

Phillipa smiled as well. "Yes, that does sound stupid and far-fetched." She laughed along with Miller, curious as to where he was going with this.

Then Miller's laughter stopped and his expression became serious. "Then again," he said, "if you had access to Project Genesis' resident teleporter, it wouldn't be so far fetched now, would it?"

Fear joined the cold rage that Phillipa was feeling earlier.

_How the hell does he know about that?_

"Project Genesis," she repeated, feigning ignorance. "What are you talking about? That's a just some abstract research project."

"Right," Miller said, the grin on his face telling Phillipa he didn't buy it, "and I suppose you didn't order three of your little test tube subjects from said 'abstract research project' to attack the prison transport in Metroville when Utopia took Paladino into custody."

"First off, why would I do that?" Phillipa asked as she leaned back in her own chair, glancing briefly at the corner of her office.

"Maybe you didn't want Utopia or the rest of Aeon to interrogate him," Miller replied. "The first thing we'd do would have a telepath go through his head…I wonder what they would have found."

Phillipa smiled again, this time it was a cold and predatory grin as she saw the familiar light-bending silhouette silently move from the corner of her office and stand behind Miller's chair. "Well," she said, "they wouldn't have found much. And they'll find very little of you."

Miller seemed confused by that. "What do you me-ARGH!" Miller thrashed around in his chair as something stabbed into his back from behind before exploding out of his chest.

Phillipa rolled her eyes as she watched some blood splatter on her desk and shook her head. "Oh, c'mon now," she said, "I just had that refinished."

The light bending silhouette dissipated to reveal Chiraben standing behind the now dead Jason Miller, his arm morphed into an enormous claw-like monstrosity that had impaled Miller from behind. He shrugged as he retracted his arm and shifted it back to normal. "Sorry, baby," he said, "it couldn't be helped."

"I know, but still…this desk is almost a century old, it's real oak too. You know how much it's going to cost to have the blood stains dealt with?" Then she got up and walked around her desk to look down at Miller's body. "On the other hand," she said, "I suppose it's worth it."

"You feel better now?" Chiraben asked.

"A little," Phillipa admitted. "Tell you what, how about you dispose of the body, I have maintenance clean up the office, and then you and I can slip off to my place and you can comfort me over the traumatic situation I just witnessed."

Chiraben smiled as he wrapped his arms around Phillpa's waist and started to kiss her neck. "Tell me," he said, "how traumatic was it?"

"Very traumatic," Phillipa replied, enjoying her lover's touch. "It was a beautiful desk, ruined before its time…" Their romantic moment was suddenly interrupted by the theme to the old "Mission Impossible" television series. "What the hell?"

They both parted, looking at each other for a moment. "It's not me," Chiraben said as he pulled his cell-phone out of his pocket.

"It's sure as hell not mine," Phillipa snapped, pissed at the interruption. They both glanced down at the source of the music.

"No way," said Chiraben.

Phillipa reached down into the bloody jacket of Jason Miller and pulled out a cell-phone. She hit the 'receive call' button, curious to hear who was calling and perhaps send Chiraben out to kill them for ruining her moment. "Hello?"

Phillipa felt a chill run down her spine when she heard an all too familiar voice chuckle at the other end of the line. "You didn't think I'd make it that easy for you, did you?" She heard another sound…a popping, fizzling sound, and looked down to see Jason Miller's body suddenly start to decompose, crumbling to dust.

"Shit!" Chiraben screamed.

Miller's laughter could be heard from the cell-phone. "By the way, this phone will self-destruct right about…now actually."

Instinctively, Phillipa suddenly threw the phone away. A half-second later, the phone exploded, the shockwave from the explosion knocking Phillipa and Chiraben to the ground and overturning furniture.

A couple seconds later, a security team burst through the doors of Phillipa's office. One of the guards quickly made their way to Phillipa. "Secure the area," the guard barked to his crew before kneeling down. "Director Lavielle, are you alright?"

"More or less," Phillipa said, shaking, but not with the fear the guard probably assumed she was showing. No, she was pissed. "Someone managed to rig an explosive device in my office."

"Don't know how," the guard said, "we sweep this place regularly. But I'll get a detail on it right away."

"Thank you."

"In the meantime, let's get you to safety."

Chiraben pulled himself up off the ground. "No need," he said. "I'll take Ms. Lavielle to her quarters."

The guard hesitated for a moment, but caught Phillipa's nod. "Very well," he said. "I'll let you know if we find anything."

"See that you do," Phillipa said. She and Chiraben walked down the hallway to the elevator where she input her personal code to access her private level at Aeon Tower. She waited until the doors were closed and the elevator started moving before she spoke again. "Okay, that was not expected."

Chiraben shook his head. "A body double, how?" he asked. "A Genesis husk, perhaps?"

"No, this is something else, I can feel it."

"Well, he just tried to assassinate you," Chiraben said, "just sanction his ass and I'll take him down."

"No," Phillipa said, shaking her head, "I'm willing to bet that double, or whatever it was, left no DNA trace and I'm certain that phone's fragments won't give us anything either. I'm also willing to bet that the real Jason Miller is probably somewhere else in front of a lot of witnesses in a public place."

"Then why go through this?"

"Other than to annoy me and let me know that he knows what we're up to, I don't know. Knowing him, he's probably laughing at us." Then her eyes narrowed in anger. "But don't worry, baby. It's only a matter of time and, when it comes, I'll order you to rip his major organs out and run them through a blender for me."

"Cool."

* * *

The security team leader waited a few seconds until he was certain the elevator had made it to the upper levels. Then he returned to Director Lavielle's office. "Okay," he said, "everybody out and secure the hallway. I want to make sure there are no surprises."

The four men in the room nodded and left the room, joining the two standing guard outside. The team leader then closed the doors and popped open the visor on his helmet as he pulled out a small data-pad that flashed to life and looked for an open connection to the Aeon network. The man caught sight of his own reflection on the data-pad's screen and grinned.

"Well," Jason Miller said as the data-pad indicated that link was established. "That was fun."

To be honest, he was surprised the plan went off as smoothly as it had. Sending one of his duplicates in as himself was easy. Being a member of Aeon's board, it allowed his duplicate to pass most security detail without being scanned and sneak in with a modified cell-phone that had linked up to Director Lavielle's computer, tracked her login code, and sent it to him. He also realized that the bitch, or more likely her equally psychotic lover, would kill his duplicate. The bomb was meant to clear them both out of the office while he, disguised as the security team leader, infiltrated the office and, following standard protocol, ordered the detail out while he, as security leader, would make sure the Director's network was secure.

Of course, no one realized that security team leader Richard Terry was now amnesiac, head shaven, and ranting like a maniac about aliens at the local homeless shelter. Needless to say, the psychotropic drugs Jason injected the man did one hell of a job, and would do an even better job after they wore off, leaving the bastard with no recollection of the last week.

Jason knew his time was limited and he didn't have time to get everything off the Director's hard drive, but that was not his intention. He quickly logged via the data-pad and started going through the directories

_Okay…and we are in…accessing the files. Aquinas protocol…Golden City…Project Genesis. Okay…skip this shit, we already know it…where's the…ah ha!_

_**Accessing affiliate files…download complete.**_

_And that was all we need, thank you very much, Director Lavielle._

He smiled as he typed in one final command and the data-pad uploaded a tiny piece of data to the Aeon mainframe. He closed the visor on his helmet and put the data-pad on his pocket. He then opened the office doors and stepped outside with the security detail. "Okay, everyone," he said to the guards, "it's secure. You two with me, the rest of you stay here until the maintenance crew arrives."

The two security guards following him said nothing as they made their way down the hallway and turned the corner, heading towards another elevator. No one questioned the trio as they stepped off the elevator down in underground parking garage and got into a black sports utility vehicle.

As he brought the SUV to the guard station at the parking lot exit, Jason pulled out the security badge and held it out for the guard. "Security Officer Terry, we're taking sensitive data to an isolated site."

The guard, one of the typical nine to five rent-a-cops, rolled his eyes. "You've been doing that a lot lately," he said. "So what's going on up there? I thought I heard some alarms go off."

"Someone just tried to attack Director Lavielle, slipped a bomb in her office."

"Seriously? Was it the Teragen?"

Jason chuckled. "No, nothing like that," he said. "It was just some nutjob, but we're not taking any chances, know what I mean?"

"Oh yeah, better safe than sorry." The guard pushed a button to raise the gate and waved them through.

When the SUV was clear of the building, Jason pulled off his helmet. "Well done, gentlemen," he said, "well done."

The other two guards removed their helmets, revealing themselves to be duplicates of Jason as well, and grinned, glowing slightly as they dissipated into nothingness, their mission complete.


	36. Dinner With Demons

Disclaimer:

Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. The Incredibles, owned by Disney. "Modern Crusaders", written by Michael Cretu and performed by Enigma. No congressmen were harmed (though they may have lost their jobs a few years later) in the writing of this chapter.

Author's Notes:

Okay, a slight change of pace. I wrote this piece while listening to Enigma's "Modern Crusaders" which I suggest you listen to before reading the chapter. Or at least listen to the song while imagining the limousine transporting David and Zoe rolling up to the front of an expensive restaurant frequented by the rich elite. Also, this chapter is kind of a short "break" between story lines...giving me a chance to catch my breath a little before the body-count and carnage starts back up again.

As usual, thanks to EVERYONE who is still reading this sick and twisted 'verse. And, as always, reviews are welcome.

* * *

_Don't look back  
The time has come  
All the pain turns into love  
We're not submissive, we're not aggressive  
But they think we can't defend _

_Stand up, join us, modern crusaders alive  
We have the power to face the future  
Cause we are the fighters  
Just fighting for our rights _

_They're accusing, like always without knowing  
What is just fiction or what is the truth  
They have no mission, they have no passion  
But they dare to tell us what's bad and what's good! _

_Stand up, join us, modern crusaders alive  
We have the power who'll face the future  
Cause we are the fighters  
Just fighting for our fights _

-"Modern Crusaders", Enigma

* * *

_**3 November 2006**_

_**Lucien's**_

_**Manhattan, New York**_

_**1400 Hrs.**_

David had to admit that Zoe cleaned up very nicely while he got out of the limousine and helped her out of the vehicle. Then again, aside from the school uniform she briefly wore a couple months ago, he wasn't sure if Zoe was actually able to where a dress, let alone an evening gown. However, she managed to look quite lovely, her pink hair perfectly combed and styled. Granted, she wasn't built like a super-model, but she was attractive enough to get some looks from other bystanders and more than a look of envy aimed in David's direction.

_Wow, _David thought, _a bunch of people 'perving out to an underage minor. I think I just saw Congressman Anthony Weiner over there…yep…pretending to not be caught checking Zoe out. Someday, that bastard's going to fuck up and it will cost him his career._

"I have to admit," he said to Zoe, "you do clean up nicely."

"Thank you," Zoe said sweetly, before leaning in to whisper, "I am so going to kill you for making me wear this."

"Hey, think how I feel," David countered as he nodded at Null, "I'm wearing a damn suit."

Zoe pulled away and playfully reached over to straighten his tie. "Oh, you poor baby."

Null, playing the part of the bodyguard/chauffer, nodded to David as he closed the door and got back into the driver's compartment. "I'll be waiting out here," he said.

"Good," David said, "because we won't be here very long." He then turned to Zoe. "So…shall we?" he asked offering her his arm.

"We shall," Zoe replied as she wrapped her arm within his and softly leaned into him as she pecked him on the cheek. "Just think," she whispered, "362 days to go and we can do this for real…then we can do naughty things to each other in the hotel across the street from here."

"Not helping, Zoe," David said. "Soul…removed…used as toilet paper…and put back afterwards."

"Oh, c'mon, Uncle Nathan didn't mean it…much."

David shook his head as they made their way up the steps and into the lobby of Lucien's, one of New York's finest cafes and a known spot for famous celebrities, politicians, and the rich elite to frequent. He could see the snobby maître d, standing next to a podium made out of ivory that held a small guest book. David could tell the man was studying them, trying to decide if they were worthy of even making it through the front door. Though his initial reaction was negative, the man's attitude began to shift slightly as he looked at the clothing that David and Zoe were wearing.

_I'm wearing an Italian made suit that costs at least fifteen grand and the tinted shades I'm wearing go for about a grand. Zoe's gown and shoes cost at twenty-five grand altogether. Shit, looking at this guy, I can he's already trying to price our worth and I haven't even talked to him yet._

David gave the man a nod. "I would like a table for two, please," he said, starting to reach into his jacket.

"Do you have a reservation?" the man asked.

David wasn't surprised, but the man's now business-like demeanor and the question informed David that the maitre'd had decided that it was worth letting them in the building instead of saying that it was reservation only and they were all booked up.

_Though he could still play that routine if I don't play the next angle right, _David thought. _That he didn't deny us outright tells me that he thinks I have money and might be willing to pay my way in. Shit…these assholes are so predictable._

"Unfortunately, no," David replied. He then pulled a small bundle hundred dollar bills, two thousand dollars worth, out of his jacket and set them on the podium next to the guest book. "However, I would like to put my name on the list if that's possible."

If there was any doubt in the man as to whether or not these guests could afford to be at this establishment, it vanished almost as quickly as the bills that he grabbed off the podium before pulling out a pen to write in the book. "Oh, it is very possible, sir," the man said in a suddenly friendly manner. "In fact, if you give us only a couple minutes, I will have a table ready for you. Now, if I could just get your name…"

"Flynn," David said as he removed his shades and put them in the breast pocket of his jacket. "David Pine Flynn."

"Very well, Mr.- " The man's face suddenly paled as he looked up and, for the first time, actually recognized David. "F-Flynn?" the poor guy managed to choke out.

"Yes, that would be me," David replied casually.

"D-do you realize where you are, who dines here?"

"Let's see," David said, "a lot of Utopia upper management, some novas, various UN ambassadors, congressmen, business leaders, celebrities, and really snobby rich people with a lot of money and influence. How am I doing so far?"

"W-why are you here?" the maitre'd asked, wondering if he should call for security. He had obviously seen the news the last couple days and wasn't happy with the fact that the David Pine Flynn was in his restaurant, a place famous for hosting Utopia dignitaries, politicians, and assorted events. However, he was not ready to have his restaurant to turn into a warzone.

David only grinned at the man's discomfort. "Relax," he said, "I have no intention of causing trouble. However, if you wish to make a scene, you better believe various media outlets around the world will hear about it. I'm here to meet someone and this is going to be neutral ground because I know the people I'm visiting won't cause a scene and risk another scandal, they've had enough problems. You have my word that my associate and I will be out of here in about ten minutes."

The man paused for a moment, weighing his options. After a couple more seconds he nodded and gestured for David and Zoe to enter the dining area. "Ten minutes," he said, "then I call Security."

Zoe managed to chuckle softly instead of outright laugh as she and David entered the dining area. "Ten minutes," she giggled, "you destroyed Brandi Miller in less than five."

"Yeah, but I'm not here to destroy someone," David said as he scanned the room. He noticed some of the patrons had seen him and were doing their best to either pretend to ignore him, hurry up with their eating, or suddenly signaled for their check.

"Then why are we here?" Zoe asked him.

"Truthfully, no real reason," David replied. "I'm just here to personally deliver a message." He spied his targets sitting at a corner table at the far end of the dining room. Apparently, they were too busy arguing amongst themselves to notice him an Zoe approaching.

_Then again, I seriously doubt they would be expecting me._

* * *

Thetis rarely ventured outside her office or the luxurious suite she called home at the Aeon Building. However, there were times when she would give in to one of her guilty pleasures, such as dining at Lucien's where they had some of the most exquisite pastries in the world. She could have had them delivered to her, but she quite enjoyed the ambiance of the restaurant and it served as a suitable meeting place when she wanted to meet away from her office. A simple, but elegant, dinner followed by a very delicious tea and dessert. However, she chose today to meet with Utopia Director Justin Laragione here instead of in her office for a good reason. She was not in the mood for what had become a daily ritual consisting with him barging into her office and delivering an angry tirade.

Here, at Lucien's, a public place frequented by key media people, various politicians, UN delegates, and other high-profile celebrities, Thetis knew that Justin would keep his cool and not want to cause a scene. This time, the meeting would be on her terms and he would be forced to act civilly. However, that still didn't change the fact that Laragione was angry at her latest attempt to get rid of David Flynn. Granted, it was a sort of spur-of-the-moment decision but she saw an opportunity and took it.

Unfortunately, as seemed to be a regular occurrence when dealing with Flynn, the attempt failed spectacularly and had somehow caused some sort of incident with the Chinese government and the world hacking community at large. Already, some media outlets were reporting that Utopia had attempted to test out a "cyberweapon" on the internet and was responsible for the accidental crash of several networks around the world.

And now, here she was, eating her dessert and sipping tea while she listened to Justin complain about her actions.

"Going after Flynn like that was stupid."

Thetis shook her head and took a sip of tea before she responded. "We did not come after him, Justin," she said, her voice calm and serene, giving her the air of innocence. "He came after us."

"Like you knew he would when he learned you had your operative, Kent I believe his name was, go in and take Paladino into custody." Justin Laragione, though composed, didn't bother hiding the anger in his voice. "Your attempt to have him killed online failed and somehow pissed off the Chinese government. And now I have the US ambassador to the UN literally kicking down my door and threatening to call for a vote on creating an oversight committee."

Thetis chuckled. "Really, Justin, you know that such a vote wouldn't get a required majority. It failed the last four times they attempted such a vote."

"Yeah, but more people are starting to side with them," Justin said. "Our greatest strength in the UN was the division among those who actually have the strength to oppose us. Sure, a majority of the UN support us, but most of the powerhouses are wary of us or just don't outright like us. Now, after the stunt you pulled and Flynn's retaliation, I'm watching the US, China, and Iran reps actually setting aside their differences, talking to each other while viewing us with a wary eye. Oh yeah, we're uniting people all right…against us."

"Calm yourself, Justin." Thetis rolled her eyes. _As always, _she thought to herself, _Justin's being melodramatic._ "There might be some cause for concern. But if the unthinkable were to occur and an alliance formed between those three, we'll just simply cause an incident with one, frame one for it, and watch their alliance fall apart as they point fingers at each other."

"Wow," said a new voice, causing them both to look up at the intruder. Thetis, upon seeing their visitor, actually stiffened up, her face going pale in shock as David Flynn stood there with the Kilmarten girl hanging off his arm. "Listen to you two," he said, "playing God over tea, coffee, and some pastries."

_That's not possible,_ Thetis thought, _what's he doing here?_

Justin's reaction was similar to Thetis' though he did swear under his breath.

David Flynn, for his part, merely grinned as he pulled out a chair for Zoe Kilmarten who sat down and waved at them.

"Hi, I'm Zoe. My boyfriend and I are kind of pissed at the shit you pulled recently." Though she was smiling, there was no humor in it; it was clear that the girl had as much contempt for them that Flynn had.

"Don't worry," the Flynn said as he pulled up a chair for himself and sat down. "We won't be staying long and I promised the poor maitre'd over there that I wouldn't turn his restaurant into a warzone. How you react, on the other hand," he shrugged his shoulders, "well, I have no control over that. But any violence or scandal will be all on you, not me. And we all know you don't want that."

After taking a couple seconds to recover, it was Justin who managed to speak first. "What do you want, Flynn?"

"You know, that's an interesting question," Flynn said, leaning back in his chair to glance over at Zoe. "Isn't it?"

"Not really," Zoe replied, "because I don't think these bastards really care what you want."

Flynn nodded in agreement. "You're right," he said, turning his attention back to Thetis and Laragione. "But, since you asked, I could be a smart-ass and say 'I want world peace', but we all know that's a crock of shit. World peace is a pipe dream, because the only way that's going to happen is if there's a war or some great cataclysm that wipes out most of humanity and they have to rebuild. There will be peace then...but then the cycle will repeat as humanity grows, form separate tribes which then form nations, which then go to war with each other, and then nearly wipe each other out and repeat the cycle." He then looked at Thetis. "Or, in the case of some really fucked up people, they recognize the cycle and then decide 'Hey, let's play god, manipulate the worlds powers against each other, bring about a near extinction level cataclysm, and then WE can bring about a true golden age by taking control of the survivors'."

Thetis chuckled, but Justin could tell from the look in older woman's eyes that Flynn's comments struck a nerve. "Really, Flynn," she said, "that's quite a fantastic idea."

"Director Thetis, please don't insult my intelligence. I know about you and Proteus, I also know that you and Director Laragione here are at odds about what the goals of Utopia truly are. I know that you're a power hungry bitch who enjoys what she does and you're not happy that Phillipa Lavielle exiled your sorry ass out here to New York alongside Director Laragione here who, despite his position as Director of Utopia, is pretty much a glorified 'Yes-man' for Aeon."

Flynn then looked in Justin's direction.

"And that brings us back to you, Director Laragione. What bothers me is that you truly believe you're trying to do good in the world, but neither you nor most of the people who work under you have any fucking clue of what's really going on. Or maybe you do, but you just don't care. Hell, in some ways, you're a willing participant when it comes to some things."

"Like what?" Justin asked, thinking Flynn was bluffing. _The kid's overplaying his hand._

"Oh...I dunno'," Flynn replied. "Although, does the term 'nova's living off the grid' mean anything to you?"

Justin's face paled and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

_Oh god,_ Justin thought, _he knows...how?_

"You're probably wondering how I know this," the young man continued, giving the Utopia Director a malicious grin. "Very simple really, hacking the UN and dumping a bunch of operative names...that was just a smoke-screen. The real objective was stabbing deep in the heart of Aeon's network and seeing what kind of shit I could dig up. And I gotta' tell ya, portraying people like me and the Teragen as evil...shit, we're saints compared to the likes of you. Well, maybe not you, Director Laragione, you're just a tool that Aeon hired on to put a friendly face on Utopia. However, give it a couple years and I'm sure your soul will be as black and hard as the old bitch sitting at the table with us."

"Is there a point to this, Mr. Flynn?" Thetis asked irritably. "Or are did you just come here to insult us?"

Flynn shook his head and laughed lightly, it wasn't a pleasant sound and Justin didn't like the malicious intent behind it. "No," Flynn replied, "insulting you is just a fringe benefit. As for why I'm here...well...given the fact that you tried to take me out in my own front yard, I figured it was only fair that I kick your front door in and take a shit in your living room. And to answer Director Laragione's question, I want nothing from you. I'm just giving you a message; you wanted a war with me, you got one. If you thought what I've been doing to you lately was bad, wait until I really take it to you. You bring this out in the public and I won't hesitate to gut you and let you bleed out."

"Do you really think you can stand against us and win, boy?"

"Truthfully, Thetis, no; but let me ask you something. Do you really think, after taking me down, that you'll be in any position to deal with whoever it is that decides to come in and finish you off? Do you think Phillipa will let you recover and not decide to eliminate you? Or how about Justin here? He knows about some of the shit you've been secretly up to. Hell, he's even tried to have you removed or forced to step down from your position. I just wonder how much more effort he'd put into it if he found about your other secrets...like your experiments in Bahrain."

"That's a high-level detention center," Justin said, "I already know about it."

"Do you? And I'm sure that only the most dangerous nova criminals Team Tomorrow has defeated are imprisoned there, along with novas that Aeon figures no one will miss. Tell me, Director Thetis, what does Doctor Toiho routinely ask you in those encrypted communiques...oh yeah...'any new toys for me to play with?'."

"Toiho?" The surprise in Justin's voice was unmistakable. "What does he have to do with this? He died in a car accident earlier this year."

Flynn smiled and Thetis silently wished she could kill the little bastard with a glare. "Oh, is that what they told you, Director Laragione? From what I understand, what goes on at Bahrain to those 'prisoners' is something that not even the Nazis were able to get away with when they experimented on people in the second world war. But it doesn't matter, does it? After all, you've got most of the UN members under thumb and your manipulation of most of the media would make that story vanish faster than a virgin on a prom night if it ever got out."

Thetis didn't respond right away. Instead, she took a sip of her tea and studied the young man sitting at her table. _We truly have underestimated him, _she thought. "Then why don't you come forward with everything you claim to know?" she asked as she set her teacup on the table.

"I'll give you the same reason I gave Phillipa when we talked in Mexico," Flynn replied. "Because if I suddenly came forward with everything, one of two things would happen. The first possibility is that you would deny everything I accused you of and your media minions around the world would put out enough spin to discredit anything I say and portray me of being some paranoid and delusional nova...something you could use as an excuse to take me down and convince various government agencies to assist you. The second possibility is that enough people would believe the evidence given to them and they start to riot and protest; these actions would eventually lead to violence and some countries may use this as an excuse to rise up openly against you and that would convince you enact some sort of failsafe plan by engineering another disaster or something."

"Good god, Flynn," Justin laughed, shaking his head, "you sound like one of those crazed conspiracy nuts." However, despite his tone, Justin noted that there was something in Thetis' expression that Flynn wasn't entirely off the mark. _That's crazy, _he thought, _Thetis' people may do some 'black bag' work but what Flynn is accusing her of is...crazy._

Thetis' response chilled Justin to the bone. "I'm impressed, Mr. Flynn," she said. "We really should have put more effort into collecting you eight years ago."

This time, it was Flynn who look like he had been slapped and Justin saw a confused look on Zoe Kilmarten's face.

"It's hard to believe that you killed those six agents when you were just ten years old," Thetis continued, a cold look in her eyes. "One shot each, in their heads."

"David, what's she talking about?" Zoe asked.

"Oh, didn't David tell you about his past?" Thetis' voice was sickly sweet as she spoke, but it only made her sound more sinister. "You never told her what you truly are, did you?"

"She knows enough," Flynn countered. "She knows about Redfield."

"Ah," Thetis nodded her head in acknowledgment, "so she knows about that, but she doesn't know everything about you, does she? Tell me, do the others at SST know who and what you are?"

_Okay, _Justin thought, _there's more going on here. What's going on?_

For a moment, Flynn seemed to hesitate, then he glanced over at Justin before returning to Thetis, resolve in his eyes. "Does Justin here really know what you people are about? Or will you kill him too once he outlives his usefulness?"

Silence blanketed the table for a few seconds as Thetis and Flynn stared at each other. Justin noticed that Zoe was looking at David, the expression on her face making it clear she was pondering what she actually knew about her boyfriend.

Finally, after a couple more seconds, Thetis nodded her head slightly and spoke. "Well played, Mr. Flynn. It would appear we have each other at a stalemate."

"So it would appear."

"Then what do you propose? A shadow war?"

"Isn't that what we've been doing?" Flynn then leaned forward slightly. "To tell you the truth, I really don't give a damn about your agenda. In fact you're more than welcome to pursue it...play God...wreck the world for all I care. Unfortunately, your agenda seems to consist of ruining mine."

"And what exactly is your agenda?" Thetis asked.

"Getting my people out of your way."

"Interesting, and how do you propose to do that?"

Instead of answering right away, Flynn glanced down at his watch. "I do believe our time is up," he said, getting up out of his chair and helping Zoe out of hers. "But like I said, you want a war, you got one. You send anyone after me...well...a lot of people seem to think I'm destined to follow in my father's footsteps. Maybe, when it comes to dealing with you, that just might might happen." He then turned to Zoe. "C'mon, let's go, we're done here."

Justin watched the young couple walk away for a couple seconds, then he turned to look at Thetis. Though it was very slight, he could see the older woman trembling with rage, her hand shaking ever so slightly as she reached for her tea cup. It was very obvious that Flynn had gotten to her.

Thetis took another sip of her tea, closed her eyes for a moment, and took a slow breath as she put her cup down again. "Well then," she said, "he wants a war...he won't be disappointed."

"Excuse me?" Justin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Didn't you just hear him? He's expecting to fight us and he's right, we may take him out in a war, but we will weakened to the point our enemies can take us."

Thetis smiled at him. "Oh, Justin," she said in that sickly sweet grandmotherly voice, "I didn't say he would be going to war with us now, did I?"

Justin paused for a moment, letting those words sink in as he remembered who he was talking to and what she was capable of. "Oh god," he said, "what have you done?"

The old woman chuckled and shook her head. "Now Justin," she said, "why should I tell you? After all, Flynn sees you as a 'glorified yes-man' for Aeon. Perhaps it's best that you take that roll. That way, you can always claim innocence. Now, try this almond croissant, it's quite good..."


	37. Deals With Demons

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf Games. The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Golden Avenger, owned by HERO games.

Author's Notes: Okay, another update. Still a little sick. As always, thanks to everyone for who has stuck around for this crazy ride. That includes the usual suspects of readers and reviewers who have been with me since the VERY beginning.

As always, reviews and threats are welcome...okay, maybe not the threats...

* * *

"_Authorities still have not been able to determine the source behind the massive cyber-attack that briefly crippled several networks around the world, specifically in the Asian and Pacific Rim theatres operation. However, that hasn't prevented some people to come up with their own speculations about the cause."_

-CBC News

"_Though authorities have not determined who was behind the massive cyber-attack that shook the Asian-Pacific Rim, Utopia officials appear certain that David Flynn, the Teragen, or, perhaps both, were behind it, particularly after Flynn's unprovoked action taken against the Project Utopia and the United Nations General Assembly."_

-Sandra Raldo, CTV News

"_And in the news this week, CTV, our fellow Canadian station up here in the Great North, has suddenly done a one-eighty and become the official Canadian Broadcast Arm for Project Utopia or, at the very least, an outlet for N!Channel. Okay, by my own admission, I'm a fairly liberal guy and lean left of center, but even I know pure-grade Alberta field cookies from smell alone and Utopia reeks of it. It's just sad to see CTV suddenly sell its soul so quickly in the last three days since Lloyd Robertson got hospitalized."_

-Rick Mercer, "The Mercer Report", CBC

"_Okay, so let's make out a score card shall we? Utopia sicks Miller and N!Channel on David Flynn, David Flynn destroys Miller's career along with several Utopia diplomats, then someone using Utopia equipment tries to assassinate Flynn, Flynn dumps information on Utopia's 'extra-curricular' activities to the UN General assembly, and now there's what appears to be a lull in this little war between the groups._

"_Now I know there are people out there, aside from Utopia, who believe Flynn is just some upstart punk kid. Hell, to be honest, I thought the same way about him myself. But given the fact that Utopia has gone out of their way to try and take him out and he's produced some pretty damning evidence about some of the shit they've been doing, it's obvious that he's much more than what a lot of people perceive him to be. In fact, the more they go after him, the more credibility they give him._

"_However, I do have to bring up one question about Flynn that many are reluctant to ask: What's his angle? What's his agenda? It's obvious he's up to something, but what is his ultimate endgame. He claims that he and his crew are not political but, for a 'punk kid', he's playing a damn good game for a rookie._

"_As for this 'lull', I've got a sick feeling that this is not a 'ceasefire'…both sides are just pausing to reload."_

-Henry "Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show" on XM Radio

"_A lot of people know my stance on novas; I strongly believe they should register with the government. David Flynn and his group obviously oppose my view and they're welcome to disagree with me, but I can't help but respect the man. He openly admits he's a nova, he's not hiding behind a secret identity, and neither is most of his staff. I just don't understand why he just doesn't officially register. Other than that, he and his crew are role models to young Americans today."_

-"Golden Avenger" Robert Kaufman on "The Glenn Beck Program", FOX

"_Okay…that's gotta' suck for Flynn, having Robert Kaufman saying good things about him. Face it, the only reason Kaufman is saying that shit is because Flynn is standing up to Utopia and he needs all the allies/tools he can find. If Utopia weren't a threat, Kaufman would have had PRIMUS agents rounding up Flynn's crew and throwing them into detention camps. And Flynn knows this."_

-Anonymous Post, H-Cove

* * *

**3 November 2006**

**Metroville Police Plaza 1**

**Metroville, California**

The first thing he was aware of was the cold and lumpy mattress he was lying on. He then heard echoes of voices and was aware of dim lighting on his eyelids. After a couple seconds, he opened his eyes and blinked them a couple times as he adjusted to the semi-dim lighting.

"Hello, sunshine," he heard someone say, "did you sleep well?"

"Go away," Jean-Paul Renard muttered trying to get back to the dream he was having involving paragliding over volcano. "I'm sleepin'."

"Okay," Detective Daniel O'Reilly said as he held the small bag between the bars of the jail cell. "If you don't want this hot ham and cheese croissant, I'll eat it. After all, it's from that crazy French place from the north side you were talking about the other day."

"La Vie En Rose?" Jean propped himself up and looked at the now familiar police detective. He then looked down at himself and realized he was still wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and was sitting in an actual prison bed. "Wow," he said as he grabbed the bag from O'Reilly. "Accommodation upgrade and room service…you're too kind."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," O'Reilly warned, "they're still fighting over who gets custody of you. Utopia still wants you, but now PRIMUS is getting involved."

"Great," Jean rolled his eyes, "just what I needed, Golden Avenger and his patriotic glee club of the damned." Jean took a bite of his croissant, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the taste. "Oh hell yeah…it's not quite like home, but fucking close. Thank you, Detective, I owe you."

"You're welcome, but you're still a menace." The detective then pulled up a chair outside the cell and sat down. "You know," he said, "I don't get it. You had a chance to escape but you didn't take it, why?"

"If you think those were my people trying to rescue me, Detective, then you are sadly mistaken."

"Oh, I know that. I've seen enough ambushes in my time and this was not an extraction job. It was a hit, pure and simple. However, we're still not sure about your boy Slapstick and why he was even there."

"Slapstick was…well…being Slapstick," Jean said, wincing as he remembered what happened to the crazy nova mercenary. "That reminds me, Detective, did he-?"

"Oh yeah," O'Reilly replied before Jean could finish his sentence. "A Utopia retrieval team showed up to take his body only to find the ME they had sent ahead to examine his body tied up, gagged, and stuffed in the body bag they were going to transport him in." Despite his best effort, he couldn't help laughing. "They also had to call a proctologist to remove the poor bastard's tools from his ass." Both men laughed at that for a couple seconds, and then O'Reilly's expression became serious. "But seriously, Renard…why haven't you run yet? I know you could break out of here at any time, especially since we haven't stripped you down and put you in a bare cell like last time."

_Well, Detective, it's quite simple really…if I leave town, someone might trigger this little device in my head that will pretty much kill me. _Jean shook his head at that thought, realizing how ridiculous that sounded even if it was true. However, that wasn't the real reason he wanted to stay.

"_**What's the matter, Renard, see someone you know?"**_

Bomber remembered those words coming from the man calling himself Behemoth. They were frightening because Jean recognized the face of the man when he lost his helmet. Though the man appeared at least twenty years younger, he was a dead ringer for a younger Mr. Incredible.

_That's not possible. Bob Parr is a middle aged man in his forties, probably pushing fifty…but who the hell was that and why did his companions seem so familiar?_

Ever since he was recaptured and brought back to 1 Metro Plaza, Jean kept thinking about the novas that attacked the convoy. "Tell me something, O'Reilly," he finally said, "did they ever identify the people who attacked the convoy?"

O'Reilly shook his head. "Only on two of them; Legion-22 and Decay…they were part of a group that included Gator. No one's crying about their deaths and some of the brothers in blue are wondering why we should even bother holding you on that. But the other three…we got nothing. All we know is that they were dressed all in black, wore black helmets, and moved like a team."

"Yeah, that's what I figured," Jean said, a thoughtful look on his face as he got up to stand in the middle of his cell. "Legion-22 and Decay, though they were with those three, they seemed to be operating separately. I'm willing to bet the other three let them loose to soften us up."

"But you have no clue who they were?" O'Reilly asked.

Jean shook his head. "No," he replied, "but you're right, Detective…they moved like some sort of spec-ops team. From what I gather, they surgically divided the convoy up, and systematically took out the novas that Utopia assigned to the convoy before they got to us."

For a few seconds, O'Reilly said nothing, merely nodding in agreement as he mentally processed the information. "You still didn't answer my question," he finally said. "Why haven't you run yet?"

"Because things have changed," Jean said, "I know this may sound crazy, Detective, but I get this feeling that I stumbled into the middle of something really big. You ever get that feeling…you know…the kind where you're at ground zero of something but quite fully grasp the situation even though you know that, for some reason, this is a significant moment in your life?"

"Yeah," O'Reilly said after thinking about it for a moment, "except usually a firefight would break out and the next thing I know, two of my buddies are on the ground, the rest of my unit is taking fire, and then I see a damn television crew huddled across the street shooting footage that will be used by their station to make it look like my crew were the bad guys." He then gave Jean a bitter smile. "I thought that bullshit ended when I got out of the Marines and went back to being a cop. Needless to say, I was wrong."

"As the old song goes, 'it's a mad, mad world'." Jean walked over to the bars of his cell and looked the detective in the eye. "You asked me why I haven't run yet, O'Reilly, the answer is simple. I still don't know what to do yet about my situation, but I figure I should at least warn you, I do plan on breaking out soon."

O'Reilly nodded. "I kind of figured as much," he said. "And I know you'd have no problem escaping, but I've been ordered to tell you to stick around for a little bit. Someone wants to talk to you. In fact, that's why you're in a standard cell and not the stripped down one; they wanted to talk to you before you 'escaped'."

"Seriously?" Jean took another bite of his croissant. "And why do they want to talk to me?"

"Because, Bomber," said a new voice, "I've got a proposal for you."

Jean felt his blood freeze when he heard that voice. O'Reilly grinned at his discomfort as the newcomer stepped out of the shadows.

_Oh shit,_ Jean thought as he recognized the tall wiry black man with the shaved head and goatee. Though the man was in normal clothes, Jean knew the voice, mannerisms, and facial structure. _Frozone!_

O'Reilly nodded at the man. "Councilman Best," he said. "Meet Jean-Paul Renard aka Bomber. Renard, meet Councilman and soon-to-be mayor-elect Lucius Best."

"Getting ahead of yourself, Detective," Best chuckled, "the elections not for a couple days."

"Well I don't see Sansweet winning this," O'Reilly said. "He's pissed off too many people and Utopia's popularity isn't very high in most of the city."

"Still, don't jinx it for me." The councilman then turned to Jean. "Hello, Renard, thanks for seeing me."

Jean spread his arms to gesture at the cell he was in. "Yeah, well, you'll have to forgive the state of my office here," he laughed, though he kept his eyes on Best, preparing for the possibility of an attack. The last time they met, Frozone sent Jean "sewer-surfing", trapped in a block of ice…not exactly one of Jean's better moments. "So, Councilman, what can I do for you?"

Before he answered, Best turned to O'Reilly. "Detective, would you mind giving me a couple minutes?"

"No problem, Councilman," O'Reilly replied, making his way towards the exit down at the end of the corridor. "I'll probably grab a coffee from the stand across the street."

"Thanks Danny," Best said. "And tell your father I'll be seeing him on the court tonight."

The detective waved over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

Best waited until he was certain the detective was gone before he returned his attention to Jean. "So…Jean," he said, "how ya been?"

"Ah, you know how it is…Fro…er…Luc…um…what can I call you?"

"Since we're going by first names, Lucius or, if you want to be the normal ass you tend to act like, you can call me 'Mr. Best'. Councilman will also work."

"Not Mr. Mayor?"

"Not yet."

"Ah, so the election is pretty much a lock, huh?"

"Pretty much." Best then silently studied Jean for a couple seconds, the expression on his face telling Jean that he was trying to make a decision on something. "Okay," he finally said, "let's cut the bullshit, Jean. The last time I saw you, it was in LA and I do recall dumping your sorry ass in the sewer system."

"Oh please," Jean fired back, "You hit me with an ice blast as I jumped. And by the way…that so wasn't cool. No one told me they had re-scheduled the deluge release an hour earlier."

"What can I say," Best grinned, "shit happens."

"Oy…bad pun."

The smile on Lucius Best's face faded and was replaced with a more serious expression. "I talked to one of the surviving guards from the prison convoy," he said. "I heard how you antagonized the Paladino kid, trying to goad him into a fight."

"Yeah, well, if my plan had worked, he would have been on life-support by the time I was done with him," Jean said. "I don't know if I should be asking this, but…Violet…how is she?"

"She's out of her coma, if that's what you're asking. There's been some…complications…with the medical procedure she went through, but I've been told her condition has improved." Then he arched an eyebrow in realization. "You actually care about her, don't you?"

"Hey, we may be adversaries, but that's more out of tradition than anything else. Besides, she's really cute when she's pissed. Her lips twist into this really cute snarl."

"Yeah, and if I recall you were singing soprano when she hit you with that force-field ball."

Jean winced. "Don't remind me," he grumbled. "On the other hand, I did dare her to try and take me down. Just wasn't expecting THAT." He couldn't help smiling as he remembered that incident and Violet actually apologizing.

"_**Sorry," she had said, "I actually meant to do this!" And then he was hit from behind by another forcefield ball that sent him flying into a wall.**_

Jean shook his head as he remembered the half-dozen times he encountered her after that event. Their fighting became more of a cross between combat and flirting which would start usually after he had defeated Violet's brother.

"_**Okay, that wasn't nice."**_

"_**Hey, your brother is a speedster and I had to find a way to slow him down."**_

"_**You dumped him in a vat of taffy!"**_

"_**Your point?"**_

Jean was still laughing at that memory when the sound of the councilman clearing his throat brought him back to the present.

"Why are you still here, Jean?" Best asked. "Danny's right, you could have busted out of here. What's going on?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Jean replied.

"Kid, we're super-powered beings who do crazy shit now and then. I think it's safe to say that suspension of disbelief is required when it comes to people like us. I also want to know what it is that has Jean-Paul Renard scared."

"Scared," Jean scoffed. "I'm not scared? Well…maybe not much."

"Jean, seriously, what's going on? According to Danny out there, you were out for blood and he was concerned that you were going to put Paladino and a few of the Utopia people in body bags."

"That was the general idea, but then we got attacked."

"So, why should that bother you? You've been attacked before like that, and your ability probably would have allowed you to survive."

"I'm not sure," Jean said, "these people knew all about Paladino and me. And they moved in to take us out accordingly. They would have too if 'Stick hadn't gotten involved. They had everything planned out, but he was the one factor they hadn't counted on. With his help, we were able to stall them long enough to force them to abandon their mission." He then walked over and sat back down on his bed. "But they'll be back," he said. "I've seen too much, of that I'm certain, but I still can't believe what I saw."

"What makes you think …" Best started to ask, then the realization hit him. "You got a look at them, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Jean replied, "I got good look at one of them when his helmet got blown off. And…" He shook his head again. "Fuck it," he finally said, decided best to get it out in the open, "I saw your best bud, Bob Parr, except he was in his twenties again, had a full head of hair, and was the leader of the team that attacked us. Yeah, I know, it sounds crazy but that's what I saw."

Jean was expecting some snide comment from the other man, but was surprised at the several seconds of silence. When he looked up, he saw Best standing there, a thoughtful look on his face. "Kid," the councilman finally said, "with what I've learned over the last few months, that doesn't sound crazy at all. And you're right, you did end up in the middle of something and you truly have no idea of what you've gotten yourself into."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

Best laughed, shaking his head. "No," he said, "but I don't either. But since you've stumbled into it, I thought it would be best to lay out a few options for you." He then began counting off with his fingers. "Option one, you can stay here and play prisoner until PRIMUS, Utopia, or someone takes you off the city's hands and throws you in a hole somewhere; but we both know that you won't let that happen and will escape or die in the attempt."

"Yeah…not really keen on that one," Jean said.

"Option two," Best continued, "you escape from custody, resume being an outlaw hero, but know that whoever is out there will eventually be coming for you and you will be alone when facing them."

"I'll take my chances…and wait…hold on, I'm not a 'hero'. I'm a mercenary."

"Please," Best snorted, "you're the only nova mercenary I know of who would break off in the middle of a firefight to pull some kids out of a burning building."

"Hey, I didn't know they were in there and Inferno started the fire, not me. Besides, I'm not that heartless. And, for the record, I did beat the shit out of that fucker because he deserved it."

"Be that as it may," Best said, "your general attitude and the way you present yourself on the 'net has made you something of a hero, much to the chagrin of parents worldwide I'd imagine."

"I have a sick feeling where this is going, what's option three?"

The councilman gave Jean an evil grin. "Well, I'm so glad you asked. Like I said earlier, I got a proposal that you might be interested in."

"What makes you think I'd be interested?"

"Because, Jean," Best said, his voice taking an ominous tone, "you have nowhere to go." Then his expression eased up a little. "And," he added, "how would you like it if you had people watching your back when whoever attacked you decides to come back and finish you off?"

Jean didn't answer right away. Instead he weighed all three options for a few seconds before deciding to hear Best out. "Okay," he finally said as he got up again and approached the bars of his cell. "I'm listening."

* * *

**Emerald Night Bistro**

**Manhattan, New York**

**1600 Hrs**

"Okay, not that I'm complaining, mind you," Zoe said as she sat down in the chair David pulled out for her, "but why are we here?"

"Well, a couple reasons," David replied. He sat down across from her and then picked up a menu. "I understand this place does really good Thai food in Manhattan and it's a known hang-out for up and coming business leaders and political figures of tomorrow."

"So you are willingly hanging out with the snobby corporate elite you like to poke fun at, why?"

David shrugged. "Because the food is good and, the table we're sitting at belongs to a Hong Kong business man named Edward Fong."

"Wait, I know that name," Zoe said, snapping her fingers as she tried to remember something. "Edward Fong…you mean 'Blazin Eddy' Fong, that hacker from the 90s?"

"Yes," said a new voice, causing both David and Zoe to turn and look at the Asian businessman standing there, his long black hair tied back in a pony-tail. He was flanked by two stern looking bodyguards who looked like they were waiting for the orders to toss Zoe and David out the door. "And would mind explaining to me why you two are sitting at my table."

"Waiting for you," David replied as he stood up and offered his hand. "Mr. Fong, I am-"

"David Flynn," Fong said, shaking David's hand. "I know who you are, but why are you here? I do have an office, you know." Though there was some mild irritation in Fong's voice, David could sense the man's curiosity.

_He knows that I paid a hefty sum to bribe the manager to seat us here, _David thought to himself, _and he's curious as to why I would go so far as to intrude on a place he comes to when he wants to get away from the trade._

"My apologies, Mr. Fong," David bowed his head slightly as he spoke, "but given what's happened in the last couple days, particularly to some of your colleagues yesterday, I thought we should talk about the person responsible."

The two guards flanking Fong tensed for a moment, catching what David was saying. However, they relaxed when Fong briefly turned and nodded to them. "Go," he ordered them, "and see that no one else disturbs us." He waited until they were gone and then sat down at the table. When he spoke again, his irritation was gone. "You know who was behind the incident that crippled some of my colleagues' networks?"

"I do," David replied. "And I got a name…Lady Ion."

Fong softly cursed in Cantonese for a moment and shook his head. "You are certain of this?" he asked David.

David pulled out a thumb-drive and handed it to Fong. "Comparisons of some of her program algorithms from previous attacks and the 'Soul Killer' program she attempted to use on me. It's not the whole program, just what was left from it after we killed it."

"And you trust me with a copy of that fragment?" Fong asked, inspecting the thumb-drive. "Despite who I work for?"

David couldn't help laughing at Fong's question. "Mr. Fong, I understand there are some people who would consider this exchange an act of treason, but even you have to agree that this isn't about national interests, this is about survival. There's also a nice little encrypted puzzle I threw in there, just to amuse you. Given your skill level, I figure you'll crack it in less than ten minutes. Think of it as a digital box of Cracker Jacks with an awesome toy inside."

"What kind of toy?"

"Oh nothing," David said, grinning at the man. "It's just a list of safe-house locations. What you have your associates do with it...is not my concern."

"How do I know if this is not an elaborate set up by your government?"

"Oh c'mon, Fong, do I look like a government agent to you? I'm only eighteen...I'm just a punk kid."

This time, it was Fong's turn to laugh. "Eighteen...a punk kid? Flynn, you are the son of a weapons designer and mass murderer, and you only recently surfaced in public in the last year. My people have been trying to dig into your background and you know what we found? Nothing. Oh, there's a trail that traces your birth and existence, but it's very faint. That means you have either lived a very dull life or you represent a possible threat that people have gone to great lengths to hide. I'm inclined to believe the latter, especially with the way your own government is wary of you."

David's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You've been keeping tabs on me?"

"Of course," Fong chuckled. "My government sees you as a person of interest and, to be honest, had they known of your existence and abilities much sooner, they might have tried to extract you."

"Or kill me."

"Well, yes," Fong admitted, "after all, we wouldn't have wanted you to fall into the wrong hands. However, we didn't know about you back then and, well, coming after you now would be meaningless. Besides, your latest actions involving the exposure of Utopia agents seems to have bought you some leeway with my superiors. As it stands now, they don't view you as an enemy...at the moment."

"Gee, thanks."

"Don't mention it. No...seriously...don't mention it." Fong then gestured at a waiter who came to their table. "William, I'll have my usual and," he then looked over at Zoe and David, "would you two like anything?"

David shook his head. "No, thanks," he said, "I think I pushed things enough by violating your private sanctum. I only came here to talk to you and give you that drive."

Fong nodded and smiled as David and Zoe got up from the table. "No apologies necessary, David Flynn," he said, shaking David's hand. "This interruption was worthwhile and I'm certain my associates will agree."

"Good to hear," David said. He then proceeded to walk with Zoe towards the exit.

"Oh, and Mr. Flynn," Fong called out.

David paused and half-turned in the man's direction. "Yes?"

"If you're ever interested, I could arrange the occasional job for you and your people."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Fong," he said, giving the man a slight nod before following Zoe out of the restaurant.

"Would you mind telling me what that was about?" Zoe asked as the limo pulled away. "Did really I see you do what I think saw you do?"

"What do you think you saw?"

"Um...if I understand correctly, you gave a Chinese intelligence operative information leading to the whereabouts of the nova that tried to take you down online."

David nodded. "Yep, that's right. I gave him a list of safe-houses she has used or will use."

"And they will go after her and hit those locations?"

"Oh yeah."

"Okay, I'm not trying to come off as being uber-patriotic or anything, but isn't that kind of an act of treason?"

"Not really."

"But what if they capture her?" Zoe asked. "You know they'll probably try to turn her and use her."

"If I was certain they were going to find her, I'd be worried about that. But it's not gonna' happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"As I said, I gave Fong a list of safe-houses Lady Ion has used or has set up."

"Yeah, which means they'll find her when they..." Zoe stopped herself when her mind processed what David had said. "Oh, you sneaky bastard," she giggled.

"That's right," David chuckled, "I didn't give him the complete list. She'll know her safe-houses have been hit and I'm certain she'll try to figure out which ones have been compromised and which ones are still safe." Then his smile faded, his expression becoming a cold mask. "And when she thinks she's safe, that's when I'll pay her visit."

* * *

**3 November 2006**

**Avalon Industries**

**R&D Facility #7**

**Chicago, Illinois**

**2200 Hrs**

Even though the reinforced Eu-Metal wall was designed to withstand the impact of high velocity tank-shells, it still buckled under repeated assault from the fists pounding against it. Even though the sixty-four square foot metal slab was designed for the purpose of taking such punishment, the nova called Behemoth was more agitated than usual.

No, he was not agitated, he was pissed.

Behemoth, also called Robbie by his close friends and Director Lavielle, prided himself on being an even tempered individual. When in combat situations, he was always cool under fire and he never let his emotions get in the way of the objective. Once given a task, he would carry out his orders and eliminate the target. Yes, he was pretty much a glorified "cleaner", but he and his crew were good at it. Yes, there were times when he was mildly annoyed and even angry, but he managed to push that aside and burn it off in the gym.

However, today, he was feeling rage.

It was supposed to be a simple job: Ambush the Utopia convoy, extract Brian Paladino (dead or alive), and leave no survivors. It truly was a simple job, until three factors came into play.

The first factor was Director Lavielle assigning freelance operatives Legion-22 and Decay. Behemoth knew of their reputations as mercenaries, but he considered them, like he considered all nova Elites, an insult to the security profession. However, they made for good cannon fodder and, despite their assignment to the mission, they were reasonably competent.

Unfortunately, they didn't count on the second factor; the last minute pick-up of Jean-Paul Renard, otherwise known as the Elite called Bomber. When informed of the last minute change, Behemoth was assured that Bomber would pose no real threat and he was inclined to agree. After all, Bomber was considered by most Elites to be a joke and an insult to their profession because of his irreverent attitude and flamboyance. In hindsight, Behemoth realized that the flamboyance and irreverent attitude hid a very skilled nova combatant. Legion-22 and Decay dismissed Bomber as a joke and it got them killed.

Then there was the third factor: the unexpected rival of the insane nova called Slapstick. Behemoth had heard about Slapstick, but dismissed the man as a clown and an even bigger fool than Bomber. However, he had underestimated the clown's ability and it cost them. He did take some satisfaction when Tag cored the bastard, but that vanished when he learned that Slapstick had somehow survived and put the Aeon medical examiner in the body bag that was meant for him.

So, after reporting back to base, Behemoth went to the gym to take his anger out on the equipment. In the last day, he had gone through four sheets of the reinforced Eumetal, punching holes in them repeatedly.

_Renard._

_Paladino._

_Slapstick._

He would repeat those names with each impact.

"Okay, 'Hemoth, time to take five." Behemoth turned to see Tagger standing there, holding out a gallon jug of water to him.

"Why are you here, Tag?" he asked, taking the offered water.

"Well, this is a gym and I do work out here, just like all the other operatives."

"Please," Behemoth snorted in amusement, "you only show up to use your X-Ray vision on some of them."

"Well, there is that too," Tagger admitted as he opened up his own smaller bottle of water.

"And if Vel and the other women knew what you were doing, you would be a greasy little smear."

"Maybe." The younger nova took a sip of his water. "Then again, death might be worth it."

"Who said anything about killing you?" asked a new voice before an invisible force picked Tagger up off the ground.

"Waaaaugh!" Tagger screamed as he was tossed halfway across the gym before landing in a heap. "Ow," he muttered a couple seconds later.

Behemoth turned around to see Velocity standing there, dressed in sweats and toweling her face dry. "Vel," he said, "anyone tell you that you're a scary bitch sometimes?"

The young woman smirked at him and playfully punched him in the ribs. "Only you, big guy," she answered, "and I might take offense at that some day." She then waved her hand lazily in the air and Tagger, who was just starting to get back up, was knocked off his feet again.

"Oof! Hey!"

"But that will only happen when I tire of Idiot over there."

"Excuse me," Tagger called, "but I can hear you!"

Another wave of her hand sent a medicine ball flying into Tagger's gut, knocking him back down again.

"You do have rage issues," Behemoth said as he watched Tagger groan and try to get back up a third time.

Velocity tilted her head to the side for a moment as she considered that possibility. "Well, maybe a little," she admitted. Then her expression softened as she looked back up at Behemoth. "But seriously, Robbie, what's with you? You've been 'Captain McCranky' for the last day or so."

"I'm fine," Behemoth snapped, then he sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Vel, just pissed off at the mission."

Velocity stared at him for a moment and then, suddenly, began to shake her head and laugh.

"What's so funny?" Behemoth asked.

After a couple seconds, the young woman managed to recover and took a breath before she could answer. "I'm sorry, Robbie…you're bothered by THAT?"

"We failed in our objective," he said.

"Under no fault of our own," she countered.

"She's right," Tagger said as he half-stumbled over to where they were. "We followed our mission parameters. How were we to know that bastard Slapstick was going to show up?"

"That's not what concerns me," Behemoth said.

"Then what is it?" Tagger asked, before quickly glancing over at Velocity. "Please don't hit me again," he said to here, "I wanna' know what's got bossman off his game here."

"Oh…alright," Velocity mock whined, "I suppose that's fair." She then turned back to Behemoth. "So, Robbie, talk to us…inquiring minds want to know…who shoved the blackberry vine up your ass?"

"Okay," Tagger said to her, bringing his finger up as if he were reprimanding her, "the imagery on that one…very disturbing…seriously."

"It's Renard," Behemoth said.

"What about him?" Tagger asked. "He's an arrogant douche, what's the big deal?"

"An 'arrogant douche' that blew my helmet off and got a good look at my face."

"So what?"

"He recognized me." Behemoth then shook his head. "Okay, maybe not me…but he recognized who I resembled; I could see it on his face. I should have killed him there."

"Look, 'Hemoth, we had to get out of there. The local authorities were showing up and we didn't want to risk this being a full blown public incident. Someone had to make the call to withdraw and, to be honest, I'd do it again." Tagger then paused to look at Velocity who was staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velocity said, shaking her head. "It's just that…for a moment…you actually seemed all leadership-like." Then she shook her head again and giggled. "No…wait, never mind. I just realized who I was talking to."

"Bitch," Tagger muttered under his breath.

"I heard that."

"You were meant to. But seriously, 'Hemoth…don't worry about it. It was combat, the situation was fluid and things got blown." Then Tagger slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Besides," he added with a grin, "we got plenty of people to kill and I'm certain Director Lavielle will give us the green light to go after him."

"Really?" All three of them turned to see Phillipa Laville approaching them, wearing an evening gown which got a soft whistle from Tagger. "Velocity," Phillipa said, "smack him for me."

"OW! What the hell was that for?"

"Hey, the Director told me to hit you, I hit you...she is the boss, you know."

Phillipa rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. Then she looked up at Behemoth and gently touched him on the cheek. "They're right, Robbie," she said. "The situation had unstable parameters, so the failure is not on you or your team." When she got no response from the man, her eyes narrowed as she did a light telepathic scan of his mind. "But that's not your concern, is it?" Then she smiled when she saw what he was truly angry about. "It's not the fact he recognized you, it's the fact that you didn't kill them."

"You know my reputation, Director," Behemoth said, bowing his head slightly.

"Indeed I do," Phillipa replied. "Once a target is assigned, you take them out. You take pride in your work, and that's to be commended. But don't obsess over this, because it will only dull your edge. However, your concern about recognition is valid and Renard does present a dangerous risk to our project."

There was a sudden flash of life in Behemoth's eyes, and his body shifted slightly as he straightened up a little. "I take it you have read my report and suggestions."

"I have, and I agree." Phillipa smiled at him again. "So," she said, "how would you like a second shot at him?"


	38. Of Michaelites and Terats

**Disclaimer:  
**Don't own Incredibles or Aberrant. Pixar and White Wolf do.

Author's Notes: For the record, the term "Terats" is slang in Aberrant when people talk about members of the Teragen. As usual, thanks to everyone for sticking around with me on this story. This chapter and the next one (which is almost done) were kind of hard to do since I was really sick the last couple weeks and I was facing a new work schedule (which...strangely, hasn't changed much on my end...though I start a half hour later on Mondays and that's about the only change to my schedule).

And, as always, reviews are welcome.

Oh...and the opening blurb at this chapter is from the Aberrant Sourcebook. For those of you who are familiar with Aberrant, yeah I tweaked some of the characters a little, but not too much I hope. I think I might have misspelled some of the names...if I did, I will correct that.

* * *

**Novas-Only Club Draws Fire From Local Scenesters: **

When entrepreneusse Travius Diaz designed her latest night-spot for the beautiful people, she had a specific group of beautiful people in mind: novas. A strict novas-only policy at the glamourous Amp Room (with one exception made for hostess Diaz herself) ensures that only the superpowerful get in, and the mundane remain without.

"This isn't bigotry," Diaz claims, despite no intimation of the journalist to that effect. "Novas prefer each other's company. That's what led me to my decision for the novas-only club. Recent research into the sociology of novas indicates that their biochemistries cause sympathetic reactions in other novas. They may fight and feud on N!, but on a basic nova level, they really do share a vibe."

Diaz' theory seems to have more than a grain of truth to it, if her cover charges and refreshment prices are any indicator. The price to pass from the street to the door is _**f60 **_and the price of a signature "Amp Well" (a drink consisting of fruit juices, coca extract and dubious other ingredients, rumoured to include adrenaline from human glands and ketamine dosages fatal to baselines). On a special night, the club sees as many as 300 nova guests

and mixes as many as 2,000 Amp Wells.

Local nightlife veterans are outraged, however. Ranging from the usual cries of prejudice to the more rare legal actions (which Diaz has already employed a full-time solicitor to handle), local patrons want access.

"It's ridiculous not to let us in. Parties make lbiza what it is, and the professional partiers should be allowed to enter." So says Nero Krauss, a German transient who washed up on Ibiza's beach with 10 quid in his pocket and half an eight-ball of cocaine in his brain. As part of Ibiza's insolvent population of starstruck, unemployed clubgoers-by-trade, Nero's statement echoes through the ranks of the youth.

Diaz has no sympathy. "These Eurotrash drifters, they want to get in, but all they do is upset the clientele. I vacationed in lbiza 12 years ago, and all the clubgoers snubbed the visiting middle-class continental men, calling them 'lager louts.' Now that the same thing's happening to them, they're up in arms about it."

Don't expect anything to change, either. Among the jet-setting novas who attend the Amp Room - many of whom travel to lbiza for one or two nights solely to visit the club - are noted Indian movie producer Deepak Palit, American elite Sarge In-Charge, radical Teragen aristocrat Raoul Orzaiz and even high-society celebs like Amanda Wu. According to all of these and more, novas enjoy the policy. "We're very public figures, and this gives us a place to be private," says supermodel Lydia Divine. (Needless to say, the Amp Room bears a constant wreath of paparazzi.)

"I've got 1 00-plus enormously famous and fabulous personalities to deal with nightly, all of whom require individual attention," claims Diaz. "My policy is no more restrictive than - and just as appropriate to my patrons as - a dress code."

-Article from "The Londoner Abroad" September 2006

* * *

_**4 November 2006**_

_**Houston, Texas**_

_**1700 Hrs**_

Buddy looked down from the top of the office building he and his crew were on and took a moment to enjoy the view it offered of the greater Houston area.

_Damn, _he thought, _they really do think bigger in Texas._

His gaze swept over the various other buildings and focused on the monolithic skyscraper sporting the Project Utopia and Triton Foundation logos and shook his head.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled, "someone's definitely compensating for something." He then turned to look at his seven man crew who were dressed up as city utility workers. "Gentlemen," he said, "it's about five o'clock, how are we doing on the 'emergency'?"

The young man called Ryder flashed him a grin. "Just finishing up here, sir; cameras are in location and ready to go online."

"Good," Buddy said as he adjusted the hard-hat he was wearing and returned to staring out at the city. "Once we get the cameras online, we can get a good view of the area while the raid goes down."

He couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction at carrying out this minor action without Horton's interference. In fact, Horton thought it was a valid plan and even had his people assist in creating 'an emergency', buy targeting key power substations that linked to four office buildings in the Houston area. Buddy and his crew, disguised as city workers, showed up at the buildings and helped "fix" the problems, the whole time talking about the 'overtime' they were collecting at the city's expense or complaining about how they're missing valuable weekend time off. All the rent-a-cops working the buildings understood or sympathized with what they mistook as blue collar workers being dragged in to work on their weekends off.

The rent-a-cops saw no need to suspect these workers. They didn't realize that the 'workers' were actually members of the Church of Michael Archangel and had intentionally caused the power-outages so they could get access to the buildings and install remote cameras.

Then again, the Michaelites didn't realize that the cameras were not meant for surveillance as 'Brother Gabriel' claimed. Oh, sure, they would initially be used for that and feed information to Horton and his team while they caused havoc on the ground, but Buddy didn't tell them the reason they were there.

The cameras were to record what would happen once the novas inevitably showed up to stop the rampaging DAV and stop the 'evil fanatics'. All Buddy had to do was wait until some nova got the bright idea of just blasting away the DAV's power supply and then…well…Horton and his people will have died for the cause and the public would be horrified by the devastation caused by a nova's carelessness.

_And with various elections coming up this next week, it will be interesting to see what kind of actions the people will take. Remember, remember, the fifth of November indeed._

Buddy smiled at that thought as the crew finished up their installation and began to pack up their gear. "Well, my friends," he said, "job well done and right on time…so who's up for a beer and some steaks?"

This got some positive murmurs of a agreement from the crew who packed up faster, but one of them seemed a little apprehensive and, like Buddy, was looking at the target off in the distance.

"I don't like it," Ryder said. "Someone should be topside to make sure Horton and his cowboys don't blow the mission."

"And you heard what _Brother_ Horton said," Buddy said, putting mock emphasis on the word 'Brother', "he believes he can handle the assault, then let him handle the assault. It's not our responsibility." He then stepped forward and put a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "Look, kid," he tried to make his tone as serious as possible as he spoke, "I know you were originally part of Horton's crew, but let's face the facts here; unlike them, you have a brain and you tend to use it. However, when dealing with people like Horton, very little thought is required. They want to shoot up the place, let them; they're just a diversion anyway."

"And if they get captured, they could be a liability," Ryder countered. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Get me up here somewhere and I can take some of his team out from long range if they get compromised."

Buddy looked the young man in the eyes for a moment and hesitated. There was something in Ryder's expression that made him briefly consider putting the kid out there, not because he doubted Ryder's words. It was quite the opposite, actually; Buddy was certain that Ryder willingly would kill his own people if they were in danger of being captured and probably wouldn't feel any remorse over it.

_This little punk is a cold blooded killer…if only I had him on my staff ten years ago. He could become a liability himself, but having an efficient killer in my crew outweighs the risk._

"Listen, Ryder," Buddy finally said. "Horton and crew will be dealt with; trust me on that, okay?" He then gave the young man a sly grin. "Besides, given what I've done recently, do you really think I'm going to let some middle-aged yahoo with delusions of grandeur ruin our plans?"

"When you put it that way, sir; no, but I still don't trust the man."

Buddy had to laugh at that. "Ah, kiddo," he said as they followed the rest of the crew back into the building and towards a waiting elevator. "Paranoia at your age isn't something you should acquire."

"It's kept me alive, so far, sir."

"Touché, my friend, touché…now, let's go get some grub."

* * *

**4 November 2006**

**Amp Room Night Club**

**Ibiza, Spain**

**2300 Hrs**

Located in a town known for its constant party atmosphere and non-stop nightclubs on the international party circuit, the Amp Room stood out among them all. Then again, being a club that had a novas only policy, it tended to attract the elite of uber-rich and powerful novas around the world. Of course, some people objected to the exclusive policy of the establishment, but that merely made it more popular. The building was almost constantly surrounded by paparazzi and baselines who wanted to get a look at the novas that frequented the club.

When the limousine transporting Count Raoul Orzaiz pulled up to the curb, a swarm of camera flashes and entertainment reporters greeted the Count as he exited the vehicle. He took a moment to bask in the wave of enthusiasm that rippled through the crowd, generated just by the fact that he had shown up. Then he nodded and smiled at the various onlookers as he made his way towards the club entrance, pausing a couple times to shake hands with various people.

"Count Orzaiz," he heard someone say; he wasn't sure, but he was certain it was either an entertainment reporter for N!Channel or ET. "Is it true that you're still funding the relief effort down in Mexico?"

That question surprised him. He hadn't planned on the reporters asking him that question here. Most of the time, it was shallow things, such as who was he currently dating, what did he think of the latest movies coming out, or some other trivial matter.

_But things have happened in the last couple months,_ he reminded himself, _things that have changed and shaken an already stable world._

"Of course it's true," Raoul replied, looking directly at the reporter. "There are some who claim that it was merely a photo-op or publicity stunt on the parts of David Flynn or myself, but those claims are worthless. While we of the Teragen and David Flynn do not share the views of some of those people who make such accusations, we all understand the serious and horrific tragedy that hit that town and we are not without compassion."

"When you say 'those people', are you referring to Utopia or baselines as a whole?"

_Now that's definitely an antagonistic question._

"I doubt baseline humans were untouched by the horrors of Mexico City," he replied, focusing on the reporter who slightly flinched. "Humans and novas were all horrified at what happened there, any being with a sense of compassion would. I just find it interesting that those who promote themselves as 'champions for all humanity' were so slow in responding to the tragedy."

"So you're talking about Utopia, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, Raoul smiled. "I apologize for being so abrupt," he said, "but I have important business to attend to. However, I will be back out in a few hours time and I will answer more of your questions then."

He then proceeded to enter the club, ignoring the rest of the reporters as they tried to shower them with questions. Once inside, he nodded at one of the security men as he slipped them a couple hundred Euro. "I take it they are expecting me," he said.

"Suite 17," the security guard replied, "they are waiting."

Raoul thanked the man and headed up a staircase that took him to the second level of the club where there were several staterooms that could be used for private parties or business meetings. Part of him preferred to have this meeting held at Castle Orzaiz, but had decided it was out of the question given which Teragen faction leaders were going to be at this meeting. With the absence of Mal, Geryon, and Shrapnel from the meeting, Roaoul was certain that this meeting would be more about drama than actual business.

_With those three gone, certain members of the various factions might see this as a gap in the power structure and try to increase their influence. I hope Jeremiah and Pedro can see that._

He managed to conjure up a smile as he opened the door to Suite 17 and entered the room. "Good evening, my friends," he said, "I apologize for my lateness." He then took a seat at the far end of the table where he noticed Leviathan was also sitting along with the glowing avatar form of Synapse. Glancing along the table, he noted that the various novas had sort of clustered together in separate groups.

_This is not good. With three major players gone, the others want to establish their positions in the pecking order, causing more anger and division among the ranks._

Jeremiah Scripture stood at the head of the table, giving a nod to Raoul as he sat down. To Jeremiah's right sat Pedro Santiago and Marcel Deloremeir sat opposite on the left. It took most of Raoul's effort to keep the disdain from showing on his face.

_Of course 'Apostle' would show up when Mal or Geryon is not around,_ he thought to himself. While Marcel openly showed blind fanaticism to Mal, Raoul didn't trust the man. He knew that Marcel, who went by the name 'Apostle', had his own agenda and was doing his best to undermine others so he could rise within the leadership.

_It's only a matter of time before this man shows his true colors._ Raoul momentarily glanced back at Scripture. _I hope you're watching your back, Jeremiah. Without Mal here, Marcel believes you weak and may try to replace you._

Seated next to Marcel was Barry Winningham, a super-strong nova who called himself "The Confederate". This time, Raoul didn't bother hiding his disgust when he studied the man, just like Winningham didn't bother hiding his disgust when dealing with certain members of the Teragen.

_A former white supremacist given the gift of being a nova, and he wants to divide our ranks even more by separating his 'Primacy' from those he sees as 'impure' or 'tainted'. He must be upset that Allison is out of his reach of influence since she agreed to look for Geryon._

His gaze then dropped on a young woman sitting opposite of Marcel and Winningham, the mysterious woman known only as Narcosis.

_Narcosis is here as well…interesting. If the head of the self-named 'Pandemonium' faction is here, she must sense a profitable angle to this meeting._

Despite his anger toward Marcel and Winningham, Raoul held no enmity for Narcosis. In fact, it was because of her commercial endeavors that a good portion of the general public held a favorable view of the Teragen or, at the very least, tolerated them. While some like Winningham or Marcel would scoff at Pandemonia Productions selling licensed Teragen merchandise, it did funnel a lot of money into the organization…legitimate money.

The final member of the gathering was a man named Altiz Zia, who looked more like a doctor than a radical nova activist.

_I wonder how many people actually believe the façade you put up, Doctor Zia._

While Raoul had not dealt with the man directly, he knew of Zia's reputation and seen the man's handiwork. Altiz Zia was a brilliant scientist, but Raoul questioned the man's sanity and lack of ethics.

_It's one thing to do terrible things for the cause if you believe it to be just, but it's completely different when you get off on it._

Zia noticed Raoul looking in his direction and nodded in polite acknowledgment. Raoul returned the nod, but that didn't stop the bitter taste of bile he felt at the back of his throat.

_If you weren't so important to the cause, Doctor, I would have killed you by now. Your ethics are just one level above that of Doctor Mengele and that alone makes me wary of you._

At the head of the table, Scripture cleared his throat, signaling the meeting was about to begin. "Thank you all for coming," he said, "given what's happened over the last week, I think you can guess why you're all here."

"Bake sale?" Synapse cheerfully offered.

"Silence, you fool!" Marcel snapped.

Synapse responded by flipping off Marcel, which got a mild chuckle from Leviathan.

"That's enough, you two," Raoul said, though he didn't hide his own amusement.

"As you are all aware," Scripture continued, "there was an assassination attempt on David Flynn and, a day later, an incident at CTV studios on Ottawa which was a pathetic attempt to implicate us. However, the general public is starting to question the validity of that claim since David Flynn recently dumped a list of covert Utopia agents that had successfully infiltrated key agencies and organizations of various nations."

"Maybe so, but it hasn't stopped the new people in charge at CTV from painting us in a bad light," rumbled Leviathan. "At least the old man who ran things previously had given us the benefit of a doubt."

"Agreed," Raoul said. "I have had the privilege of being interviewed by the man and I can assure you that the man comes from an era when integrity and honor meant something in his profession."

"Wow, he really is a dinosaur," Synapse quipped.

"Maybe, Synapse but, at the vey least, he was a powerful dinosaur that was an ally." Raoul looked back at Scripture. "How is he doing?"

"According to reports, his condition has stabilized," Scripture replied. "However, his successors wasted no time in turning their news outlet against us and we have confirmed that Sandra Raldo is on Utopia's payroll."

"Pretty damn convenient that this 'attack' happens on the day they were going to put up a scathing primetime news story that would have shown Utopia's true colors." Leviathan shook his massive head and let out a snort of disgust. "Any word on the report they were going to air?"

"According to Sandra Raldo, they lost it in the explosion. Apparently, one of their data hubs was taken out in the explosion."

"Oh, of course," Synapse snapped. "Given the fact their main data hub there wasn't nowhere near the site of the explosion I can tell you that story is bullshit. It was fucking purged, plain and simple."

"Do you have a copy of the report?"

Synapse shook his head. "Mostly snippets and raw footage," he replied. "Robertson and Richards were going to do a live interview to provide commentary for most of it."

"Then that is very telling in and of itself," Raoul said. "Robertson and his crew must have had some pretty damning evidence of something if Utopia was willing to go that far to quash a story and frame us."

"Who cares?" This came from Winningham. "Baselines being killed by baselines…so what? CTV would have turned on us eventually."

"Robertson wouldn't have," Synapse countered. "According to what I've heard about the man, he was fucking 'old testament' when it came to news. And you saw his reports, Confederate, he gave us a fair shake. Hell, look how many times has he had the Count here on his broadcasts."

"That's because Orzaiz here isn't all in the movement. He's too busy hanging out with the baseline monkeys, that they forget he's a nova."

Raoul shook his head and chuckled softly at Winningham. "You're a very brave man, Confederate," he said. "Or perhaps you seem to have forgotten I'm in the room here with you."

"Oh, I know you're here, Count, and I'm not afraid to speak the truth."

Raoul tilted his head slightly to the side and he could sense Leviathan, Zia, Santiago, and even Synapse tense a little. "Careful, little man," he warned Winningham. "I may play the high-society playboy to the public but, if you wish to make this personal, I will be more than willing to make sure that this will be the last Teragen meeting you will attend."

"What, you're going to toss me out of the group?" Winningham laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think so." Then he noticed the serious looks on the other members' faces and realized that the Count was now coldly staring at him the way a snake looked at a field mouse.

Before the Count could say anything, Scripture spoke up. "That's enough; Winningham, Count, you know that this infighting will not help our cause."

Raoul nodded in agreement. "Of course you are right, Jeremiah," he said, "I apologize for my actions."

"Very well then," Scripture continued, "let's talk about the situation with David Flynn and his people."

"A poser if there ever was one," Winningham scoffed.

"You really think so?" Synapse asked. "Because, for someone who's not officially with us, he's done more for the cause in the last month alone than you have in the last year or two you've been with group."

"Synapse is right," Marcel said, cutting off Winningham's response. "Flynn has proven to a valuable ally though he does not support our cause."

Raoul's eyes narrowed at Marcel's calm response. _What's your game, Marcel?_

"Perhaps we should change that," Marcel continued, "maybe invite him to join us."

_Ah…so there it is. You think you're going to add another pawn to your arsenal…somehow I don't think Flynn will play your game, Marcel._

"Um, I hate to break it to you, Apostle; but I don't think Flynn's much of a joiner," Synapse said. "He's got his own plans and, from what I saw of them, I think we're better off not messing with them."

Everyone turned to look at Synapse.

"What do you mean?" asked Narcosis as she brushed some locks of her blond hair out of her face. Then the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You were able to break into his network, haven't you?"

"Sort of," Synapse said, his eyes flashing brightly for a moment before they returned to their normal glow. "As I said in the last meeting, he was gathering a lot of data, some of it was medical and relating to shutting down an MR node in a nova."

Winningham slammed his fist on the table. "So that's the bastard's game, huh? Shutting down our powers!"

"Chill out, moron," Synapse snapped. "Scripture was right, Flynn's research has nothing-"

"What else did you find, Synapse?" Scripture asked, interrupting Synapse.

"Um…like I was saying some of Flynn's research involved-"

"Mal and I are aware of that situation, Synapse." The look Scripture gave the younger nova, along with the slight tone of warning in his voice, made it clear that Synapse should not talk about that subject. "What else have you uncovered?"

"Well, the easily decrypted stuff dealt with his company's new game system which, by the way, I'm getting a free one and a year's subscription for saving his ass the other day."

"Dude, so not fair," Leviathan said.

"Don't worry, big guy," Synapse chuckled, "I'll be thinking of you and your misery while I play all those games."

"Back to the discussion at hand please," Scripture said, rolling his eyes, though the ghost of a smile did flash across his face.

"Well, as you know, if you paid attention to some of the minor news out there, SST quietly purchased the old Biosphere 2 project in Arizona and has quietly sent a team to check it out with the intention of repairing it, upgrading it, and getting it to working order. He's also been in contact with various private engineering firms and even a couple people from NASA and the Russian Space Agency."

Now THAT got Raoul's interest. "Synapse," he said, "are you saying that Flynn is making preparations for some sort of evacuation plan?"

"Similar to some of the plans we had discussed in the past," Synapse replied, "except Flynn's obviously already in the early stages of it and moving rapidly. He's also been in contact with a government agency and fighting to legally regain hold of some small island his father's company owned until the NSA confiscated it eight years ago along with most of Pine Industries assets."

"What's the big deal about some little island?" Winningham asked.

Synpase shook his head. "Beats me, but the NSA has had patrols on it ever since. Mostly lowtech stuff, communications and such, and even that doesn't say much. Other than that, the island is pretty much dead technologically. However, given what I gathered from the limited communiqués I intercepted, Pine Industries had some massive tech stuff going on over there and it scared the hell out of the NSA. And, for the record, don't even think of going there. They've got hardware that can take down novas and they hired a few Elite grade novas there to assist."

"And Flynn wants to take this island back," Raoul said thoughtfully, "it's starting to make sense then."

"What, he's going to make himself out to be some wannabe James Bond villain?" Winningham laughed. However, he stopped laughing when he saw the serious look on the faces of Scripture and Santiago. "Wait, you are joking, right?"

"Flynn hardly fits that kind of profile," Marcel said. "If we bring him into the fold, he could do much for us."

"Not gonna' happen," Synapse countered. "Like I said, he's got his own agenda. We try to force him to sign on, he'll piss on us."

Winningham laughed again. "You sound afraid of him, little man. Could it be that you fear him?"

"Dude, have you not been paying attention to what's happened lately? He's at fucking war with Utopia. I'm not sure what the whole story is there, but I can tell you that he has a severe hate-on for them and the feeling is mutual. If that only makes him an ally of convenience, I'm more than willing to live with that." Synapse then addressed everyone sitting at the table. "Trust me when I say this, people; you do not…no wait, let me put it in 'all capitals' here…YOU…DO…NOT…want to piss this guy off, especially with the recent attempts on his life."

Raoul studied the reactions of the others to Synapse's comment. Winningham still looked like he didn't believe what he was being told, Narcosis appeared skeptical but Raoul could see the woman was mentally contemplating the possibility that Synapse was telling the truth. Leviathan, Santiago, and Scripture appeared to share Synapse's sentiment while Zia kept his expression neutral and unreadable, but it was Marcel's reaction that bothered Raoul the most.

Instead of bristling at Synapse's remarks, Marcel once again appeared lost in thought. He appeared to heed Synapse's warning, but the look in his eyes told Raoul that the man was clearly planning something. "Well," Marcel said after a couple moments, "I suppose we should consider alternative actions to take."

"HELLO! Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Oh, I heard you, Synapse," Marcel calmly replied. "But by your own admission, Flynn has his own agenda and is an 'ally of convenience'. Eventually, and regrettably, things may very well become 'inconvenient' and it would be best to our benefit to have contingency plans in place if and when that time comes."

"Reluctantly, I must concur," Zia said, finally breaking his silence. "Though I have no wish to see Flynn and his people as enemies, it would serve our purposes to have something in place to hold him in check. However, I am not one to make that kind of call. So, Scripture, what do you suggest?"

"You both have valid arguments," Scripture conceded.

"C'mon! Scripture, don't tell me you're buying this shit!"

"Synapse, please," Scripture said, "hear me out first. Zia and Marcel do have a point. However, Mal was very adamant about how we handle Flynn and his people. It would not be prudent to act until we had his input."

"So what," Winningham snarled, "we just fucking wait until he awakens from chrysalis? We don't even know how long he's going to be that way. And then we got Geryon's disappearance to deal with."

"Shrapnel is dealing with that situation, Confederate."

"Why bother?" Winningham asked. "It was a fool's mission to begin with. Geryon is dead and we should deal with the Michaelites that killed him."

"As I said," Scripture continued, "Geryon's situation is being dealt with. And for the record, you should be careful when jumping to conclusions about things you do not know."

"Wait…you mean Geryon's alive?" Winningham's face paled when he asked the question.

Raoul grinned as he looked at the shocked look on Winningham's and Marcel's faces. _They thought Geryon had actually perished and reacted quickly in trying to fill up vacuum in the power structure. Now that they know he's alive, they may not be so arrogant._

"Then why has he not returned?" Zia asked.

"Geryon has his reasons," Scripture replied, "and I respect them. For now, consider that another topic to be discussed when the time comes. Now, let us discuss the actions of the Michaelites and this man who calls himself 'Gabriel'."

The rest of the meeting pretty much the same way, comments, suggestions, veiled threats hurtled between various faction leaders and Scripture calling for order. However, as the meeting came to an end, Raoul realized that Zia, Winningham, and Marcel had pretty much formed their own little power bloc and that did concern him.

_Winningham is a an arrogant white supremacist who is still tainted by his former baseline views, Zia is an unstable madman, and Marcel wants to acquire more power and influence. These three are dangerous separately but, together, they could jeopardize our movement and destroy what we're trying to work for._

However, there was nothing that Raoul could do at the moment. The only thing he could do was simply wait, watch, gather information, bide his time until an opportunity presented itself to act, and pray those three didn't do too much damage until then.

_I just hope Scripture is not blind to what is happening because, if he is, there will be nothing for Mal to return to._

* * *

Barry Winningham was not too happy with how the meeting turned out. He had planned on pushing forward with a plan to carry out a series of coordinated strikes against multiple targets, hoping the successes would cement his place within the Teragen leadership and people would see him as a replacement for Geryon. However, that fool Scripture shot down that idea. Even more insulting was the "wait and see" attitude the man suggested when dealing with the potential threat a poser like David Flynn presented. Of course, his anger was tempered by the fear that Geryon, a rival within the organization was alive and that the monster may come back. Of course, that fear was consumed by anger at the fact that Allison, someone who Winningham was hoping to sway to the cause (and possibly into his bed) was sent to find Geryon and had not returned.

And so, now, here he was after the meeting, sitting at a corner table in the main lounge of the Amp room with The Apostle and Zia. Winningham didn't really care much about either of them, especially Zia and his freak-show experimentation. However, when Marcel suggested they meet with a proposal that could change the balance of power in their favor…well, even Winningham was open to that idea.

"So," he said, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his whiskey before continuing, "what do you have in mind, Marcel?"

"Yes," Zia said, "I am curious as to why you were fairly docile this evening. Usually, you are trading insults with Orzaiz and Leviathan."

"As amusing as it is to play with those fools, the time for games has passed, my friends." The Apostle pulled a file folder out of his coat and opened it as he placed it on the table. "I apologize for the low-tech presentation, but I felt it was necessary because I didn't want to risk our good friend Synapse intercepting this."

Winningham picked up the file and thumbed through it, eyes widening in surprise as he read some of the highlighted parts. "Is this for real?" he asked as he handed the file to Zia.

"Oh, it is very real," The Apostle chuckled.

"How did you happen to come by this, Marcel?" Zia asked.

"Well, as you know, I managed to turn a couple of Utopia's nova operatives to our cause. They occasionally feed me information. This," The Apostle gestured at the file, "as you can see, is some of the intelligence they have of David Flynn and his operation."

Winningham let out a low whistle. "No wonder you want this guy to side with us…if he is truly that capable, we could easily bring Utopia to its knees."

"Yes, however, turning him is not an option," The Apostle said. "Apparently, Mr. Flynn's mind is very different than that of a nova or even a baseline. Team Tomorrow's resident telepath, Psyche, attempted to take control of Flynn and, according to my informant, she was in a coma for three days and still has nightmares of what she experienced. No, if we want to control or neutralize Flynn, we do it indirectly."

"Then what's the plan?"

The Apostle smiled at Winningham as he pulled a photo out of the file folder. "It's very simple," he said as he held up the photo, showing a young woman with short spiky pink hair drinking a mocha. "We get to Flynn through her."


	39. Of Light and Dark

Author's Notes: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird and Pixar do (and they would probably scream for my head on a pike if they saw what I've done with their creations).

Author's Notes: As usual, thanks to everyone who's been reading this fic. This chapter was kind of hard to write because I don't like writing "sappy" moments, but I hope I did okay on this and didn't go too overboard with it. As some of you have guessed, there is some ugly shit about to go down again in this story, but I assure you that won't happen in THIS chapter. Well...it won't happen, but you'll see it coming.

On another note, I know I screwed up on some of the Teragen characters names and I do plan on fixing that. Unfortunately, I went through different sources online (as opposed to the sourcebooks) and there were a few inconsistencies as far as some characters go. Then again, this is a blending of two universes, so maybe I can be forgiven a little.

* * *

_There are those who believe that **homo sapiens** and homo **sapiens novus** are two separate races and I will admit that I am one of those. However, despite what some of my fellow believers claim, we are still ruled by our own natures, whether it be baseline or nova. Though we grow, adapt, and evolve, many of us still hold on to the core of our inner being because that, ultimately, is what makes each and every one of us what we are. Yes, I understand that is not anything new, but it seems to be basic knowledge that is commonly tossed aside and forgotten._

_For to look at one's own nature is to see into their very soul and who they really are. Some would be surprised to discover that the impressions they have of a particular individual differs from who and what that individual truly is. A demonic looking individual could have the soul of an angel, while one who appears to be a fighter for the light is filled with a darkness that threatens to consume everyone around them._

-From the writings of Jeremiah Scripture

* * *

_**5 November 2006**_

_**Syndrome Software & Technologies**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**0100 Hrs**_

Though it was after hours and Saturday evening, Bridgette was thankful that the SST building was open and that her visitor's card that Zoe Kilmarten gave her still worked. Since Violet Parr's shooting, a lot of personnel were still at SST, some staying in the residential suites instead of going to their homes. However, this late in the evening, the main lobby was empty, the lights only at half-power and the Neon Café in the corner was closed. She wasn't exactly sure why she chose this place, but she didn't feel like having it out with her father in the hospital and she sure as hell didn't feel like arguing in the car with her father on the way back home to LA. SST, she decided, was perhaps the closest she was going to get to a neutral venue. With most of the employees retired for the evening or at the hospital visiting Violet, it was pretty much empty.

It was the perfect place to yell at her father and, when Flynn returned from whatever hell errand he went on, she would want to know how much he knew. So here she was, in the lobby, facing off against her father, wanting to demand some answers but fearful that she would get exactly what she wanted and that nothing would ever be the same between them again.

For several seconds, they stood there, staring at each other and said nothing. Bridgette studied her father's face and she could see the look of sadness in his eyes which told her that her fears might not only be true, but far worse than she could imagine.

"I want to know," she finally said, drawing up the courage to speak.

"How much do you want to know?" Her father's response surprised her. At the very least, she was expecting some sort of false ignorance or outright denial from him, but not straight acknowledgement. "And before you answer that," Doctor Saunders continued, "I want you to know that I love you very much, but I can't protect you from the truth forever and I will understand-"

"No," Bridgette said, cutting him off. "Don't play the emotional card with me…you're not getting off that easily. Ever since we first came here to SST, I've been feeling things…sensations…having thoughts that weren't my own and, after a few encounters with Flynn, experiencing memory lapses or blackouts of some sort. I want to know why I can hear what David Flynn is thinking and why you've been treating me like I was a bomb that might go off at any moment."

"Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?"

"Tell me." It wasn't a request, it was a demand.

Saunders sighed and shook his head. "Fine," he said, "but I want you to understand everything I did was for your benefit."

"What did you do?" Bridgette asked, feeling her anger beginning to rise.

"After your mother died, you were the only thing that mattered to me." The man looked down at the ground for a moment and he looked like he instantly aged five years, the stress of what he was about to tell her had obviously taken a toll. "I was willing to just walk away from my work, retire and just raise you. I lost your mother to cancer and I had thrown myself into my work most of the time while she fought it, because I didn't want to think about the pain she was constantly in and watch her waste away like that. By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late for me to be there for her and he died before I could make it up to her. I fooled myself into thinking maybe…maybe if I kept working on the nanotech I could have found a way to cure her. That was the excuse I kept telling myself right on up to her death.

"When she died, I knew the only way to make it up to her was take care of you and not neglect you like I did her. I had even begun to make some breakthroughs in my research, but none of it mattered anymore. You were the only thing I cared about and I wasn't going to let the sins of my past destroy your life like I did your mother's." He paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes as he remembered that time. Then his voice became bitter as he spoke again. "But I guess karma decided to screw my life over by having my sins come back to bite me in the ass and target you in the process."

"What happened?" Bridgette asked. "And what does this have to do with my situation now?"

Saunders gave his daughter a bitter laugh. "What happened," he repeated, "is that life decided to attack us with something other than cancer. When you were three, it was discovered that you were autistic. Initially, I ignored your strange behavior, writing it off from your lack of family interaction, but I was hit hard with the truth when I had taken you to a doctor for your check-up. Cancer took my wife from me, and now another disease was going to take you away from me little by little. I couldn't take it…and, just like I did with your mother, I threw myself into my research but even more so. I didn't sleep for days, I ate very little, and I kept pushing myself harder and harder. And then…I did it." He laughed again, but it was hollow and still filled with bitterness. "I actually made a breakthrough and came up with an adaptable algorithm programming set for my nanotech. Once that was done, synthesizing the nanites was no problem. I should have tested them, but I was desperate. I had run simulations, I knew a more thorough study should have been conducted, but I didn't care; I was watching you fade away just like your mother did and I didn't want that to happen again…so I brought you to the lab…sedated you, and introduced the nanites to your system via an IV. I then proceeded to give you about a dozen more similar treatments after that as a follow up."

"I remember those," Bridgette said, her eyes narrowing, "you told me that I had a weak immune system and those were protein supplements to help rebuild it."

"You were four or five years old at the time, but I wasn't exactly lying to you either. I told you that they were helping you get better and they did. The treatment didn't cure you of your autism so much as it 'rewired' and 'reworked' your brain to function with it."

"You turned me into a lab rat?" Bridgette felt like she was going to be sick. "So, I'm just a science experiment to you?"

"No, dammit!" Saunders snapped. "I was saving you and I did it the only way I knew how. Yes, I asked myself about the moral implication of what I was doing and questioned my ethics, but I didn't care. You were my daughter and I wasn't going to lose you too!"

Bridgette was surprised by her father's vehemence and anger. And yet, while she was angry at what he had done to her, she could see that her father was indeed telling the truth; he loved her and didn't want to lose her.

_But what does that make me then?_

She shoved that question aside. She would worry about that later. "Okay," she said, "I'm really not sure what to make of this revelation and I'm sure we'll have more arguments about this later, but what's Flynn got to do with this? And how did he know about me?"

"Flynn's story is not mine to tell," Saunders said. "But I will tell you two things about him. First, as you know, he has the ability to mentally link of with electronic devices and networks."

Bridgette's eyes widened in realization at what her father was saying. "And he was able to access the nanotech going through my brain…oh god…he could have taken control of me at any moment, couldn't he?" She walked over to one of the leather chairs in the lobby and sat down, feeling a little nauseated. "That's also why I could also hear some of his thoughts, wasn't it? It works both ways."

Saunders nodded. "Yes," he replied. "But you shouldn't be worried about Flynn, he never would have taken control of you. When he realized what you were, he felt you had a right to know. I agreed, but I didn't want you to find out like this. I knew I would have to tell you the truth, eventually, but Flynn convinced me the sooner the better."

"And why would he even care?" Bridgette snapped.

Her father smiled sadly at her. "Because," he replied, "he's family. That's the other thing you should know about him."

"What?" Bridgette couldn't believe what she just heard. "Say that again?"

"Your Aunt Melissa, the one you used to spend a lot of time with when you were a little girl…she's David's mother."

"Whoa…wait…you're telling me David Pine Flynn…that arrogant punk nova…"

"Yes."

"The prick who thumbs his nose at Utopia?"

"Uh...huh…that would be the one."

"He's my cousin?"

"Yep."

Bridgette reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Great…now I feel a migraine coming on."

Despite the situation, Saunders couldn't help laughing. "Well, you would have found out eventually."

"Just why didn't you tell me this before?"

Saunder's smile faded a little. "As I said, it's not my story to tell."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately."

"I know, but if you really want to know what's going on with him, just ask him. He'll tell you."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you're family, Bridgette and while I will agree with you that your cousin can be a little arrogant at times, family and friendships are what matter to him. All this you see here," Saunders gestured around at the lobby with his arms, "means nothing to him when it comes to those he cares about."

Bridgette thought about that for a moment and realized her father was right about that. David Flynn, despite being an arrogant punk, cared very much for his co-workers. In fact, she noticed that the SST employees as a whole acted more like a family instead of a bunch of egotistical novas. Then she realized something else.

"That's why you've been wary of Utopia, isn't it?" she asked. "You knew that if I went to them, they would find out about me."

"Yes…and I also knew that Flynn, despite your mutual hostility, would never betray you to them either."

Bridgette shook her head again. "This is too much drama for me right now, you know that?" She then looked back up to her father. "So what happens now?"

"I guess that's up to you, Bridgette," Saunders replied. "I can't tell you what to do with your life, but at least you know the truth." He then reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember, you're still my daughter, I love you, and you are not just some experiment to me, okay?"

"That means a lot to me, Dad," she said, managing to blink back tears. "But I gotta' tell you, this is pretty hard to take in. Can just give me a couple hours alone to think about this, please?"

Saunders nodded and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, then smiled at her before turning around and walking away.

Bridgette watched her father exit through the lobby doors and looked down at the ground as she thought about what she learned.

_So the secret is out. I knew Dad had done a lot of classified stuff, but this…and he's right, I could never approach Utopia now. They would see me as something to be studied and, if Flynn's right, exploited._

She sighed and closed her eyes.

_So what now, Bridgette? At least only Dad and Flynn know about me._

And at that moment, she heard someone sneeze above her. Her eyes shot open and she immediately looked up to locate the source of the sneeze.

Looking down at her, hanging upside down from one of the ceiling light fixtures with a laptop in a specialized harness, Shiro Murakami gave her a sheepish grin and waved at her with a taloned hand. "Um," he said, "hi?"

Bridgette just glared at him.

"Um," Shiro said again, "I was listening to my MP3 player...yeah...that's it!" He pointed to the earbuds hanging off his neck. "See?"

Bridgette continued to glare at him for a few more seconds until, finally, he sighed, "Okay, maybe I might have heard a little bit of it."

"Define 'a little bit'," she said.

Shiro dropped down from the ceiling, flipping over mid-way in order to land on his feet and using his wings and tail to balance the landing. He folded his wings around his body like a cloak as he set his lap-top on a nearby coffee table. "Well, let's see," he said, "how about everything from 'I want to know' on up to this very moment?"

"So you heard everything?"

"Um…yeah…pretty much." Shiro cocked his head to one side, a concerned look on his face. "It's kind of a shock to hear, but I'm going to skip the whole scientific curiosity part where I barrage you with questions and piss you off because it will look like I care more about technology than people. Instead, I'm just going to ask, 'are you okay?'."

That statement caught Bridgette off guard. From the time she spent with Shiro and other SST employees, she was expecting him to start asking her about the nanotech in her head or talk about the moral and ethical implications of such a technology. She didn't expect him to ask about her.

"Are you?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" she finally managed to say, feeling a lump in her throat.

"Are you okay?"

The full impact of what had been done to her had finally struck and Bridgette found herself blinking back tears. Thankfully, she had enough willpower to keep it under control…but not enough to block out the emotional pain. "No," she replied after a few more seconds. "I'm not okay…but there's not much I can do about the situation, is there? Except maybe, move on."

Shiro ran his hand through the short mane of wavy black hair on his head and then sat down in the chair next to her. "Actually, there are a lot of things you can do," he said, "other than just simply shoving it aside and, as you put it, 'move on'." He then began counting off with his fingers. "You could get all mad, scream at the world, go into a blind rage and cry about how your life is nothing. You could just break down and start crying, feeling sorry for yourself, crying out and doing the whole 'Blade Runner' thing and ask 'Am I really human? If I'm not, then what am I?' You could go the other way, suddenly see yourself as non-human, superior to other life, and go 'The Terminator' route."

Despite herself, Bridgette found herself laughing at that.

"And, of course, there's the reaction you just came up with: feel like there's nothing you could do, push the pain aside, and try to move on." Shiro shook his head. "I gotta' tell ya though, all those options suck, but that last one's the worst because it will eat at you and, more than likely, you'll then fall into one of the previous examples I just cited."

She was still smiling when she gave him a curious look before asking, "It's just those four options?"

"Well no," Shiro admitted, grinning at her, "there's hundreds of ideas I could come up with, but those were just the first four I could pull off the top of my head…given the fact I was thinking more about the cheat codes for Warrior World II while taking into account the drama of your life exploding right in front of me."

"Gee, you certainly know how to make a girl feel better."

Shiro sighed again, this time the smile faded a little. "Look, Bridgette, I know it's none of my business, but since I've gotten to know you a little over the last few days, let me tell you what I think of you." He held up a claw to silence her. "Just hear me out, okay? Obviously, with all that nano-gunk in your head, you have some unresolved issues, but tell me who doesn't have unresolved issues. I guess what I'm saying, and maybe it's a little cliché, but don't let this change who you are just because you feel that it's destroyed everything you thought you believed in or accepted. Okay, so you're father experimented on you, but it's not like he decided to go all 'Dr. Frankenstein' on you. He did what he did because he loved you and was afraid that he was going to lose you like he lost your mother. Of course, I could go on about the moral ramifications of messing with someone because of their autism, but he wasn't doing that just to make some scientific breakthrough. He was desperate to save someone he cared about…just like David was desperate to call you and your father to help Vi."

"I see your point," Bridgette admitted, "but I can't help wondering how the nanites changed me…personality wise, you know what I mean?"

Shiro shook his head. "Shit," he grumbled, "you're not going to go all 'DS9' on me and pull a 'Doctor Bashir', are you?"

Again, Bridgette was caught off guard by Shiro's comments. "What?"

"You know…Star Trek Deep Space Nine, Doctor Bashir, the guy who was an augmented human because his parents were concerned about their boy's learning disabilities and they had illegal treatments done to him to make him a more 'superior' human?"

Bridgette blinked a couple times. "Um…didn't watch many science fiction programs, Shiro; too much fiction, not enough science."

"Okay, we really need to get your pop culture references up to speed someday," Shiro chuckled, "but forget it. Forgive me for getting a little philosophical on you, but let me ask you this: How did you become you are today?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Do you really think that you're the way you are because your father shot you full of some nanotech? I mean, did you suddenly wake up and become a scientist?"

"Well, no."

"Okay, then how?"

"I just wasn't like other kids, you know. I just liked building stuff, seeing how they worked."

"Did your father force you to assist him in his research?"

"No…it's just I got bored, wanted something to do, and I kept bugging him all the time to let me help. And besides, one can only do some much with Legos, especially when you grow older."

Shiro arched an eyebrow at that. "Seriously, Legos?" he asked.

Bridgette smiled at that memory. "Yeah, I've always had Legos, ever since I could remember. I remember my Dad sitting down next me one time while I was playing with them, making up these bizarre shapes, but trying to keep following a particular pattern of color coding. That was the night before…" Her voice trailed off as the realization hit her.

"Before what?"

"Before my father took me to his lab." Bridgette felt a single tear roll down her cheek as she remembered that night. "I didn't care what he was saying; I just kept trying to build the patterns."

"And what happened after that."

"The patterns were still there, but they had to be more complex and had to make sense." She smiled as she remembered something. "On my sixth birthday, Dad gave me a book about molecules and I would make lego constructs of them." Then she laughed. "I still use them from time to time to build a base model of what a molecular sized machine would look like."

"Okay, but other than giving you that book, did your father force you to follow in his footsteps?"

"No, I did that on my own. Part of it was boredom, but mostly because I liked doing that kind of stuff."

Shiro smiled at her again. "Then there you go," he said. "Sure, your dad gave that book when you were kid, but what parent doesn't do something that influences them one way or another? And did it really change you that much? I mean…you're still Bridgette, that funny, pop-culture handicapped, but cute and scary smart girl who plays with legos." He then gave her light playful punch in the arm. "Just remember that one fact and I think you'll be okay." He then got up out of his chair and checked his watch, stretching out his wings as he did so. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he said as he picked up his laptop off the coffee table, "I'm gonna' hit this diner that Jake the security guy was telling me about. They're open twenty-four hours and I hear they got some good pancakes."

"Hey, Shiro," Bridgette said as he started to walk away.

Shiro paused and looked over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

Shiro gave her tiny smile and a nod. "No problem," he said giving her a mock salute with a taloned hand. "Just remember who you are and you'll get through this."

Bridgette watched him walk away before he disappeared out the main lobby door. Oddly enough, talking to him did cheer her up a little and, to be honest, he had a point.

_Just remember who you are,_ she mentally repeated to her self, _the funny, pop-culture handicapped, but cute and scary smart girl who plays with legos._

That's when the realization suddenly hit her.

_Wait…did he just call me 'cute'?_

* * *

_**PRIMUS Heaquarters**_

_**Washington D.C.**_

Robert Washington Kaufman sat behind his desk and took a sip of coffee as he scrolled through the various reports flashing across his computer screen. To say the last week had been eventful would have been an understatement. Actually, the couple months had been fairly active, but the events of this last week alone left him with the distinct impression that things were just warming up.

The attack on Mexico City by persons unknown, the battle between Utopia and David Pine Flynn, the revelation of Utopia covert activity in various government agencies around the world, and then, most recently, a cyber-attack that crippled several networks around the world with Utopia being fingered as the culprit…Kaufman wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. Yes, a lot of chaos and destruction had happened, but it appeared to be Project Utopia taking the brunt of it.

After Flynn's revelation of Utopia's infiltration of various government agencies, various American politicians and administration officials who had been friendly toward Utopia had mostly changed their tune. PRIMUS, an organization that had been a favorite target for budget cuts by various pro-Utopia congressmen, suddenly found itself being the possible recipient of new funding being drafted up by pro-American congressmen. Granted, they did not have enough votes to get their bills passed, but Kaufman noted that opposition to the funding was beginning to weaken. Apparently, some moderate Utopia supporters were caving into demands by their constituents that they curb their pro-Utopia bias.

_Of course, given the fact that we have an election coming up in less than two days, some of these bastards realize they are suddenly vulnerable._

He was quite certain that a good number of members of the US Senate and the House of Representatives would be looking for new jobs as lobbyists, talk show hosts, or finding a home in the public speaking circuit after Tuesday's results. With some of Utopia's secret activity revealed, Kaufman was very certain that his organization would have stronger allies in Congress in the next couple months. He would be able to get more funding restored to his organization and some of his supporters in congress would begin drafting up legislation that would make it mandatory for novas or any other super-powered beings to register with the government.

_And if I play my cards right, I might be able to get congress to force Dicker to release the NSA database he has on registered supers and their families. That fossil and his crew have outlived their usefulness and it's time to know what they know._

He tapped a couple keys and brought up the file on David Pine Flynn.

_And then there's this kid._

While Kaufman didn't trust novas and saw them as a threat to American interests, he couldn't help appreciating the irony that David Pine Flynn had pretty much set himself up as a young American businessman taking on Project Utopia at every turn. It had made the young man a hero to many within America. When he got the letter from Senator Arlen Kinsey, Kaufman was wary of the plan the senator proposed. However, he couldn't argue with the results.

_By appearing to publicly back David Flynn, it shores up his image of being a "patriot" fighting Utopia's one world order and the American people are starting to have a favorable view of PRIMUS because of my actions._

But Kaufman was no fool. He knew that David Flynn, like any nova, couldn't be trusted and, eventually, he would have to be dealt with. Unfortunately, dealing with Flynn would be trickier than dealing with other novas.

_While he does not support my registration proposal, Flynn has negated that argument by coming out in public. Everyone knows he's a nova, they know who he is, and where he is. By making himself such a public figure, it would be impossible to target him and portray him as an enemy. The same goes for his employees. Those that we publicly know about are also known and Flynn made sure the rest of the others are registered with Dicker's NSA._

He opened up another file that displayed recent surveillance photos taken of Flynn in the last week.

_Intimidating Flynn won't work either. Someone made an attempt on his life and critically injured one of his people, and now Utopia is paying the price. If we attack him, it must be with enough severity and lethality to cripple him so he cannot react. Hmm…perhaps I should contact Arlen and have him get a hold of his contacts in the Institute for Human Advancement or even Piper and his Michaelites. If they could agitate Flynn into retaliating against them, I can portray Flynn as an unstable nova who targets Americans who disagree with him._

He smiled at that thought and continued to browse through the photos; then he suddenly stopped when he saw a picture of Flynn entering the hospital with an older man that Kaufman hadn't seen in years.

_Well, well, well…talk about it being a small world. Doctor Aaron Saunders…what rock did David Flynn find you hiding under?_

Kaufman frowned as he thought about the implications. The last time he encountered Saunders, it was when PRIMUS contracted him to improve the Cyberline formula that gave Kaufman and his Silver Avengers their enhanced physical abilities. However, there had been a few 'incidents' with some failed experiments when others attached to the project did not heed Saunders' warning about the instability of his new formula. It turned into a catastrophic PR nightmare and PRIMUS had a good chunk of its funding cut, especially after Saunders testified before a congressional committee hearing.

_Now why would David Flynn contact you unless he was certain you could help him with Miss Parr's condition?_

Before he could think more about the situation, his phone rang. Curious that someone would contact him at 1am in the morning, he checked the ID…only to see that the caller was blocked.

_How's that possible? A blocked caller would not have been able to breach this line of communication without being identified._

That thought alone made him realize that whoever was calling him must have had some serious technology to breach PRIMUS security like that. Even more curious, he picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Robert Kaufman," chuckled a man at the other end of the line. "AKA the 'Golden Avenger', Director of PRIMUS…you are a hard man to reach, you know that?"

"Who is this?" Kaufman asked, tapping on his computer keyboard and attempting to trace the call.

"Oh, c'mon, Kaufman, don't be like that. We're friends…and you're wasting your time trying to track this call. I've got it being bounced around all over the place, but I don't have much time. Although, I gotta' tell ya; not once, did I imagine that a distinguished head of such a fine government institution was in semi-regular contact with Michah Piper. I mean…what the hell are the odds on that, right?"

Kaufman waited a couple seconds for the trace to complete before he could answer. However, he was shocked when the trace suddenly terminated and the message 'Signal Lost' flashed across the screen.

"Dammit, stop trying to trace me," the caller said. "It's not going to do you any good and I'm trying to be nice here."

Kaufman sighed and shook his head. "What do you want?" he asked.

"That's a pretty loaded question, now, isn't it?" The voice chuckled again. "I wanted to contact you because you and I have the same friends these days and I figured we should talk about what's going to happen in the next twenty-four hours."

"What do you mean by friends?"

"Let's just say you and I are affiliated with same CHURCH as it were. And please don't say 'I don't know what you're talking about', because you know exactly what I'm talking about. Besides, you've actually been in contact with Grand Deacon Piper, so let's skip that dance and move on to not what I want but, instead, what you want." The voice paused for a moment, but when the man spoke again, there was no humor in it this time. "What you want, Robert Kaufman, is to get rid of the cancer that has taken your country away from you little by little and rendered you almost impotent to act. PRIMUS is being fast tracked to extinction and you risk becoming nothing more than a paper tiger. I am going to give you something that will shift the balance of power in your favor."

Now Kaufman was curious. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Tomorrow, Mr. Kaufman, there will be an attack in Houston, Texas on one of Utopia's Rashoud training centers. If you have any personnel in the immediate area, you might want to pull them out and let Utopia handle the attack by what the Utopia-biased media will portray as 'a bunch of religious, radical, and warmongering right-wingers clinging to their guns and religion'." The man laughed again. "And, sorry to say, given who will be carrying out that part of the attack, that's probably not too far from the truth."

"If you're talking about an attack on American citizens, we are duty bound to prevent such an action."

"Spare me the ultra-patriotic BS for a moment, okay? You know as well as I do that, in order to get people to see your point of view, bad things have to happen. In this case, however, I can guarantee that Utopia will be fully responsible for what happens and that, as an added bonus, people will take your stance on novas far more seriously."

"Exactly what do you intend to do?"

"You're better off not knowing, Kaufman, believe me. But let me ask you something. You've seen the country fallen apart, being systematically corrupted and dismantled by forces within as well as by UN outsiders. So tell me, isn't the lives of a couple thousand civilians worth sacrificing if it helps you make your nation strong again? To save a country close the three hundred million people, isn't that a relatively cheap price to pay?"

A small part of Kaufman felt a sense of revulsion that he was actually considering this course of action and, for a moment, he was tempted to tell whoever he was talking to what they could do with themselves and hang up the phone. However, he thought about the decay he had witnessed in his country over the last two decades and how it seemed to accelerate with the emergence of so many new super-humans around the world since the Galatea incident eight years ago.

_Project Utopia wasted no time in taking control of the United Nations and, with their resources, began trying to force their one-world agenda on the rest of us. If this action can destroy their standing in the view of the world…then the decision isn't that hard to make._

"Mr. Kaufman, are you still with me?" the voice asked.

"Yes," Kaufman finally replied. "And what exactly would you have me do during this incident?"

The man on the other end laughed again. "That's the beauty of it, my friend. You don't have to do anything. Just be ready to respond to the emergency and prepare for a lot of press conferences because the country, as well as the world, will need to see someone who is not afraid to stand up to the 'evil one world regime' that Utopia represents. And trust me, after what happens, the world will see who was truly responsible for the devastation and it won't be the so called 'right wing radical nutjobs'…because they, sadly, will perish as well."

"You would sacrifice your own people for this?"

"You're willing to sacrifice thousands of civilians to make this possible, Kaufman. It's only fair that there has to be loss on our end as well."

"Or perhaps you're sacrificing people you deem as disposable or present a threat to your plans." Kaufman replied with a smirk.

"Ah, my friend…so you do know how to play this game. After all, how many Silver Avenger operatives have you forcibly 'retired' when they got too close to the truth about you?"

"You're very well informed," he said, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You clearly have an agenda of your own, don't you?"

"Well, yeah, everyone has an agenda. But rest assured, Kaufman, our paths go the same direction. We both want to see Utopia quashed and those damn novas dealt with. All I ask in return is one small favor."

"And what might that be?" Kaufman asked. _And now, _he thought, _here come the impossible demands or veiled threats meant to keep me from acting against him._

"Oh, it's a simple one, and nothing you have to worry too much about. David Pine Flynn."

"What about him?"

"I want you and your organization to stay away from him."

"Why? Surely you see that he is a threat that will have to eventually be dealt with."

The man on the other end of line laughed again. "Oh, you misunderstand me…I don't want you to leave him alone. He is a threat, but you have no idea what he is truly capable of. No, I want you to stay clear of him because that little bastard is my concern and I will deal with him accordingly."

Kaufman was stunned by the anger he was hearing from the man. _Clearly, this person has something against Flynn._ "If you don't mind me asking, what is your problem with the boy?"

"Need to know, Kaufman," the voice replied. "But that's my condition, restoration of your organization and your country for one pathetic piece of aberrant garbage and his crew. Do we have a deal?"

Kaufman thought about it for a moment. He was hoping that his organization would be dealing with Flynn because PRIMUS could use the treasure trove of technology that young man was sitting on. However, if this person was offering to take Flynn and SST down, Kaufman realized it would keep his hands clean and, once the smoke cleared, he might be able retrieve some of Flynn's tech.

_And if this man is telling the truth, he might be that act of severity and lethality that could cripple Flynn. And perhaps, Flynn may cripple this individual in the process…making it easier to mop up whoever is left and confiscating their assets as a matter of "national security"._

"We have a deal," he said with a smile.

"Good," the voice said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a busy day ahead."

"Before you hang up, who are you?" Kaufman was curious. At the very least he figured he should learn who he was dealing with and intending to double-cross.

"They call me Gabriel." The response chilled Kaufman to the bone. He had heard rumors about this "Gabriel" and that he was involved in the murder of the super team in San Francisco and the massacre in Mexico City. However, it was what Gabriel said next that chilled him. "Oh, and Kaufman, don't think about double crossing me. I want you to take a good look at what will happen in Houston and realize that I can very easily do the same to you if you try screw me over. Good-bye."

Then the line went dead, leaving Kaufman alone with his thoughts.

_Whoever this Gabriel is…if he is indeed the 'Gabriel' rumored to be behind the attacks on San Francisco and Mexico City…could be a problem. However, I'll play his game for now…in the meantime…_

Kaufman went back to the surveillance photos of Doctor Aaron Saunders and his daughter, Bridgette.

_What am I going to do about you?_


	40. Gamechanger I

Disclaimer: Don't own The Incredibles or Aberrant. Incredibles created by Brad Bird and Pixar. Aberrant...still owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: As usual, thanks to everyone for reading this fic. I wish I could promote this fic more and get more readers and reviews, but hey, I'm not going to complain. I got a solid reader base and, apparently, I'm doing something right because a lot of you are sticking around and I get plenty of reader traffic. For that, I thank you all.

Anyway, just to warn you, this chapter tends to jump back and forth between multiple points of view. I hope I don't lose you in the confusion. I'm working on part two of this arc.

* * *

_Even the most mentally dim among us, save for the truly naïve, can see it or, at the very least, notice the pattern even on a subconscious level. With all the events that have happened over the last eight years since Galatea, culminating in the rapidity of events that have happened in the last couple months alone, we are truly approaching another flashpoint situation that will have dire ramifications. Again, as I have often written before, there are people, both nova and baseline, who are just waiting for such an event to occur, each side goading the other into performing that one action to cause it._

_Before, I often wondered which side will commit that one act that upsets the balance and triggers that conflict we both fear and desire. But now, given the events that have happened and the actions being taken by the baselines and some novas in our own ranks, I now have a greater fear._

_It is no longer about reacting in retaliation to that one event that triggers the flashpoint. It's now all about the pre-emptive strike that is meant to cripple our enemies. As dire as that is in and of itself, that is not my greater fear. My greater fear is the element of chaos that is not anticipated, the part of the equation that cannot be seen at first or fully resolved. While I am certain there are people on both sides who would want to start the war, it's that unknown factor that keeps me awake at night. Yes, there are novas and baselines that can't wait for the conflict to start so they can each justify the actions they will take to annihilate the "threat to the survival of their kind"._

_Then there's that one chaotic element who really doesn't give a damn about the conflict and just want to watch the world burn._

_Some would call me paranoid for thinking that, but logic and numbers don't lie. People like that do exist and it terrifies me that it's more than likely that some of these individuals do possess the will, influence, and power to make that nightmare a reality._

-From the Private Journal of Pedro Santiago, "The Mathematician"

* * *

_**5 November 2006**_

_**Houston**_ _**Rashoud Training Center**_

_**Houston, Texas**_

_**1200 hrs.  
**_

Buddy smiled as he looked at the tiny laptop screen tracking the movement of the various teams. The van he and his team were in was parked across street from the Rashoud testing center. On the screen he could see the two vans belonging to Horton's strike team parked at each end of the block while the semi-truck transporting the DAV approached their position. He looked up at Ryder and the four others of his team.

"Gentlemen, it's time to rock and roll," he said. He then keyed the headset he was wearing. "Okay, Horton…the DAV is on its way and will be at the target zone in five minutes."

"I know that, Gabriel, and I have my men in position," Horton snapped back over the line. "So let us professionals do our job so your little crew of eggheads can do theirs."

The line went dead on the other hand and Buddy chuckled, "Clearly, the man does not like me."

Ryder gave Buddy a wry grin. "And this surprises you?"

"Nah…not really," Buddy replied. He tapped a couple keys that tracked Horton's signal and he smiled again.

_Of course, you would be the one to be sitting in the van, controlling the DAV while your men go out and do the grunt work. Not that it matters, Theo, because you'll be dying today too._

"Well," he said to his team, "shall we?" He and the team exited their van, dressed as a construction crew. Having hacked some of the lesser firewalls on the facilities network the week before, he learned the facility had construction crews come in routinely to repair the damage a nova might have caused to parts of the facility during a training session. It wasn't too hard to intercept the crew, kill them, and take their place. After all, Buddy had to admit that Horton's people were good at killing.

_You are a useful mammal, Theo, but your kind is a dying breed. You can't evolve above the jarhead mentality you and your fellow apes like to employ. The times have changed…you can't change with them, you die. Pure and Simple._

His team made their way across the street and entered the building, each member presenting their security cards to the guard sitting behind a desk in the main lobby. Buddy gave the men a toothy grin as he adjusted his hard-hat. "So tell me," he said, "what kind of crazy stuff are we doing today?"

The guard handed Buddy and each of his team a security card and shook his head. "Let's see," he said, "we recently had a nova that can shoot some sort of mucus that becomes sort of sticky jellylike substance that is kind of like super-clue when it hardens, but it's much worse."

"Really, how so?"

"One of the scientists got hit by the stuff and she got stuck." The guard then laughed. "They had to use hammer, chisels, and a jackhammer to get her out…then they found out that the stuff dissolved most of her clothing before it hardened."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

Buddy laughed, as did Ryder and couple others on the team.

"That must have been embarrassing," Ryder said.

"Oh yeah," the guard replied, nodding in agreement. "There's also some burn damage from a pyrokinetic on level 2 from last night. Oh…and be careful about testing room seven…one nova pushed herself too hard and ended up magnetizing everything in the room."

"Damn," Buddy momentarily glanced at his crew, "it looks like we're gonna' be busy today."

"Good luck," the guard chuckled as he used his own security guard to access one of the elevators and gestured for them to get in. "Have a good one."

"Oh, we will," Buddy said, still grinning, "this is what they pay us the big bucks for, right?"

The doors closed and his grin vanished. He then reached into his coveralls and pulled out a tiny wireless key pad and placed it next to the elevator controls. The mini-screen on the key-pad flashed to life as it linked up to the computer controlling the elevator. Buddy pushed the button for level 2 on the elevator control panel, but tapped the button for sub-level three on the key pad. Thanks to this tiny device, the computers monitoring the elevator believed the elevator was going to level 2 though it was actually going elsewhere. "Technology," Buddy smiled again, "gotta' fuckin' love it!"

All five of them put on their gas masks and Buddy looked down at his watch. "And, this gentlemen, is where we make history."

* * *

Back on street-level, local traffic was fairly steady despite it being the weekend. Then again, traffic and businesses were always busy around the Utopia Rashoud testing center. After all, it was one of the major facilities novas would go to train with their powers or register with Utopia. There was also a lot of civilian traffic who knew that the Rashoud center was a good chance to see novas in action or even the occasional member of Team Tomorrow who would stop by and check on the facility. In other words, despite it's official capacity, it was still a tourist attraction.

It was also a big target. No one paid attention to the public utility workers who moved up and down the streets, checking what people assumed were parts of the electrical grid because of the unexplained blackouts that had happened over the last couple days in various parts of the city. Yes, they found it odd that such people were working on a Sunday, but everyone simply assumed they were called to do some urgent repair work.

So Horton's twenty man team dispersed into five groups of four, quietly placing explosives and jamming devices. The sound of a semi-truck's horn made the workers look up and they immediately moved to their designated area as the truck slowed to a stop outside of the Utopia building.

It wasn't until the semi-truck's trailer exploded as four large metallic legs ripped through the sides of the container and the main body of the spider-like mecha tore through the top of the trailer sending shrapnel everywhere that everyone realized something was wrong. Of course, by that time, they were too busy screaming and running in fear.

On cue, Horton's crew detonated the explosive charges they had set up, releasing a mixture of smoke and tear-gas into the streets.

* * *

The moment the doors to the elevator opened, Buddy's team fired a couple flash-bang grenades into the control room. Then they rushed in and took down the stunned and disoriented personnel in the area. The lone security guard assigned to the section tried bring up his weapon but was rewarded with bullet in his head from Buddy.

Ryder turned and looked over at him. "Wish you hadn't done that," he said, "we could have tortured him for information." Then he proceeded to shove one of the dead technicians aside and hooked a data-pad up to one of the computer terminals. "It would have made getting out of here easier." He then turned to one of the other members of the team. "Make sure you rip out an eye and cut off his hands. We might need them to access the sub-basement."

Buddy chuckled. "Damn, Ryder, you're a piece of work." He then glared at the man who Ryder ordered to rip the eye and hands off the guard; the poor man looked a little hesitant and nauseous. "Oh, c'mon, it's just a dead guy."

The man hesitated and Buddy was about shoot the man for losing his nerve but stopped when Ryder pulled out his own pistol and aimed it at the man's head. "His eyes and hands…we will need them for retinal and print scanners installed down here. Get them now, or I will shoot you myself for holding up the mission."

The man slowly nodded and pulled out a hunting knife to do what he was ordered to do while Ryder proceeded to tap in the codes Buddy had provided to him. "We're in, sir," he said after a couple seconds.

Buddy couldn't help staring at the man who, despite the excitement of the situation, was acting calm and casual…as if he were sitting down and reading a newspaper while drinking a cup of tea. "Okay, Ryder," he said, "tell me again why you left the Army?"

"Psychological discharge, sir," Ryder said without looking up from his work. "They believed me to be a sociopath."

"I see." Buddy smiled as he looked at his watch before keying his headset. "The carnage topside must have started. Yo, Horton, you there?"

"Of course I'm here, Gabriel. What is your status?"

"Ryder's accessing their system now and we will be making our exit shortly." Buddy then walked over to another terminal and tapped in a couple commands that allowed him to access the building's security feed that showed the DAV mowing down people with it's auto-cannon or impale the occasional victim with one of its legs. "Having fun, are we?"

Horton actually laughed. "I have to had it to you, Gabriel, this device handles like a dream."

Buddy reached up and pressed a button on the small gauntlet he was wearing on this left arm. "So how's the field holding up?"

"Still going strong, withstood a lot of bullet fire and even some attacks from various novas."

"Good," Buddy said, smiling as the small LED display on his gauntlet informed him that the Quantum shield protecting the DAV was absorbing the energy from all attacks and diverting it to the mecha's powercore. _All I need is a really powerful nova to give it a jumpstart..._

"Shit!" Horton snarled.

"What is it?" Buddy asked.

"Caestus fucking Pax just arrived." Horton's voice seemed to waver for a moment. "I hope your field will hold up, Gabriel."

_Perfect, _Buddy thought. _Wasn't expecting Pax, but this is fucking better than I expected._

"Don't worry, Horton," Buddy assured the man. "The DAV was designed to take on people like Pax."

_Especially this model, but I don't need to tell you that since you're going to die anyway._

* * *

Caestus Pax couldn't believe what he was seeing as he stopped in mid-air, floating in the Houston skyline and looking down at the carnage being caused by the mechanical monster down below.

_You have got be joking, _he thought, _this the kind of shit that only happens in cartoons or comics._

He was in Hawaii, promoting a new Utopia Rashoud Center in Honolulu when the alert came. In the twenty minutes it took for him to reach the state of Texas, he was briefed on the situation and being fed live media coverage in addition to whatever intelligence Utopia gathered.

The Rashoud Testing Center in Houston was under attack by persons unknown. Communications with the Utopia staff in the area were minimal. The only thing that was confirmed was that the attackers had access to advanced technological weaponry that was banned by Utopia. One of the Utopia analysts confirmed that it was something called a Dagger Assault Vehicle…a prototype of a land based battle-drone that a company in Japan had been working on before the Japanese government scrapped the project by order of Project Utopia and the United Nations.

Pax wasted no time in heading to Houston. Ever since his public run-in with David Flynn in Mexico, Utopia had him on a very tight leash and kept him, along with a majority of Team Tomorrow, away from Mexico City. With the destruction of the T2M Americas, the remaining three teams were mostly kept close to their base of operations. When Pax asked Director Laragione about it, all the man told him is that the being responsible for the murder of T2M Americas and the destruction of Mexico City was deliberately targeting novas. Laragione then went on to inform Pax that there was strong evidence that the Utopia sponsored super team in San Francisco, the Protectors, was slaughtered by the same individual who devastated Mexico City.

At first, Pax didn't believe the Director of Utopia, but the look of fear on the man's face said it all. Laragione, though a baseline, did not scare easily; and if something frightened him, then the situation was not to be taken lightly.

Of course, Pax also suspected Utopia wanted him on a tight leash because of the incident with David Flynn. It was no secret that Pax hated the little shit and would have loved to reduce Flynn to a greasy smear in the pavement, but he also knew that doing that would play right into Flynn's hands. He did not know why Flynn had so much hatred for Utopia, but the boy certainly went out of his way to make life hell for them.

In away, Flynn earned Pax's respect; the kid was not afraid to stand is ground even against those who could reduce him to ash in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, the punk stood against Utopia and had this crazy idea that he was the hero and Utopia was an evil organization…as if the world were some comic book.

"_**Oh please…if this were a comic book, I would have found your 'kryptonite' and sodomized you with it."**_

That line from Flynn brought Pax back to reality. Flynn was not that naïve; he truly had a reason to hate Utopia. However, Pax didn't care…the kid was just another enemy of Utopia that would have to be dealt with eventually. He just hoped that he would be the one that would take Flynn and his little club down.

So now, here he was in Houston, looking at the carnage. Smoke was everywhere, several vehicles were on fire, and he could see many dead and dying in the street. He also saw the two novas assigned to protect the facility lying in the street, one of them decapitated while the other one had been ripped in half.

"This ends now," he said as he flew towards the spider-like mecha that had its back turned to him and was firing a burst of fire from the massive cannon mounted under its body. He decided charging it hard and coring through its body would disable it.

Or at least that's what he thought until he hit some sort of energy field a few feet out from his target and ricocheted off it before crashing through the storefront of a building that was across the street.

* * *

Back in the van from which he was controlling the DAV, Horton chuckled with relief. "Okay, Gabriel," he spoke into the headset, "you were right."

"Well don't get too cocky, Horton," Gabriel replied. "That field may hold, but the power core is unstable."

"It reads safe enough. How long before you're done?"

"Ryder finished downloading the current database and we're uploading our back door now. Give us five minutes and we'll be clear of the area."

Horton grinned. "Good," he said as he watched Pax pull himself out of the rubble he landed in. "Gives me time to have some fun with this bastard."

Pax shook his head as he stumbled back to his feet.

_What the hell did I hit?_

One moment, he was charging the rogue DAV, preparing to rip it apart. Then he hit some sort of blue energy field and felt pain shoot through his body as he was thrown across the street.

"Well, well, well," he heard a voice say, coming from an external speaker system on the DAV, "the great Caestus Pax here in little 'ol Houston…how the mighty have fallen." The twin machine guns mounted on both sides of the DAV's main cannon opened fire.

For moment, Pax couldn't believe that someone dared to open fire on him with a pair of paltry .50 caliber machine guns…until the stream of glowing projectiles hit him, informing him that these were not paltry .50 caliber rounds. Though they did not tear through him, the bullets left welts on his body before they bounced off, some actually managed to break skin and draw blood, causing him to stumble back and hold up his arms to block the bullets.

_What the hell is this thing? How can this thing be hurting me?_

On instinct, Pax blindly leapt up in the air, going airborne just as the main massive rail weapon opened fire, literally mowing down what was left of the building he had been standing in. For the first time in several years, Pax felt fear as he looked down at the remains of the building, the DAV standing there for a moment to survey it's handiwork before looking up in his direction.

"What's the matter, Pax," the voice on the DAV's speakers said as it raked the sky with more of those enhanced .50 caliber rounds, "I thought you were supposed to be some bad ass."

Pax managed to avoid most of the gun fire, but a couple rounds grazed him across the back, sending searing pain through his body. He crashed into another building, causing it to collapse on top of him. The impact of the building collapsing felt like nothing compared to the searing pain across his back that was just now starting to fade.

_Who is this person, what is he using?_

"You can't hide from me, you aberrant freak!" He could hear and feel the shifting of the rubble as the DAV sifted through it, obviously looking for him. "C'mon, tough guy, didn't think Utopia's front man would be such a pussy."

In that moment, whatever fear and pain Pax was feeling had immediately vanished in a wave of rage. He could feel the power building up within him

_That's it, time to let loose!_

* * *

"Fire in the hole!" Ryder shouted before detonating the charges they placed in the sub-basement, blowing a hole in the floor that led to the city sewer system. He then waited a minute before checking the hole. "Okay," he said, "we got a straight line to the sewer."

"Good," Buddy said, "everyone out and stick to the route." He then smiled as he spoke into his headset and tapped a couple keys on the bracer he wore on his fore-arm. The tiny LED display informed him that the quantum field had absorbed enough energy and funneled it to the DAV's engine core. "Horton, we're heading out. Tell your crew to evac and meet at the rendezvous point."

"Hold on, Gabriel," Horton said, "let me finish Pax off first."

Buddy had to force himself not to smile. Horton had fallen for the bait. _He actually thinks he's going to finish Pax off…so damn predictable. _Instead he gave Ryder a concerned glance before he spoke again. "Horton, I'm getting some dangerous readings from the DAV's power core."

"They're within manageable limits, Gabriel."

"Horton, I warned you before…you don't want to push this thing."

"Gabriel," Horton sneered through the line, "killing Pax here will leave a statement to our enemies. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're afraid I'm stealing your thunder in the movement."

"Horton," Buddy said, keeping his voice level and serious, "I told you the power core on that thing is a little unstable if you taxed it too much. Seriously…the mission is accomplished, fall back now."

"I don't you remember being in charge of this part of the mission, Gabriel," Horton laughed. "We're winning, get over it…Horton out."

"Fuck!" Buddy snarled before looking at Ryder. "He's not listening. Move…we better get out of here and head to the rendezvous. He better not fuck this up."

Ryder nodded and followed him through the hole and into the sewers. Buddy, despite himself, grinned again as he quietly tapped one key on his bracer, triggering the countdown to the quantum field collapse. He was thankful that the sewers were dark enough to hide his smile from the rest of his team.

_Now let's just hope Pax is as predictable as Horton._

* * *

Pax felt a couple of his ribs snap as one of the DAV's legs caught him in the chest and knocked him into the upper floors of another building. He managed to roll with the impact and plow through to the other side and stay airborne. He gained a little more altitude and took a moment to clutch his chest. He couldn't believe what was happening, he was fighting what was supposed to be a simple ground combat drone that was easy to defeat and it was actually hurting him. It was taking everything he was throwing at it and returning it. Obviously, whoever was controlling it had outfitted with some sort of advanced technology.

_But who could be capable of such a thing?_

His first thought was David Flynn, but even that didn't make sense.

_Flynn would rather humiliate me than kill me. And he would never ally himself with the Michaelites._

He quickly evaded more shots from the .50 caliber machine guns and unleashed a blast of heat vision at the rail cannon that attempted to follow up the attack from the .50 cals. He wasn't surprised when the concentrated beams hit that strange blue field that seemed to be protecting the mecha, but he was surprised when the whole mecha started to shimmer and crackle with that weird blue energy for a moment before flashing out of existence and allowing the heat beams to reduce the large cannon to molten slag.

_The field…it's down?_

The mecha stumbled back a moment before firing another volley of .50 caliber rounds. Pax dodged them, flew in close and delivered a punch to the side of the machine's body. Instead of the burning sensation he felt the last time when making physical contact with the machine, his blow actually knocked the machine off its feet and sent it careening across the street and into a fast food restaurant.

* * *

Back in the van, Horton was beginning to panic. "What the hell's happening?" he snarled. He then keyed on his headset. "Gabriel, I just lost the dampening field."

"Horton, you idiot," Gabriel snapped over the line, "I told you not to push it. Power that thing down and pull your people out."

Horton was about to tell Gabriel what he could do with himself, but was cut off by a warning from his heads-up display. "What the hell? Gabriel, I'm getting sudden spikes off the engine core."

"Dammit, Horton, recall your crew and get the hell out of there!"

"Everyone, clear out of the area," Pax announced to everyone in the area as he floated above the now severely damaged DAV. He managed to rip one of its legs off and cripple one of the .50 caliber guns, but it still flailed away at him and fired wildly. Whoever was remotely controlling it hadn't spoken to him lately and he couldn't help smiling as he imagined them panicking wherever they were hiding at. He then noticed one of the breached areas on the DAV and the blue glow behind it.

_Ah, the power source, time to end this._

He summoned all the energy he could muster, his right fist beginning to glow a bright orange color felt the power build up. Then he released it all, sending a super-heated plasma bolt that slammed into the DAV, instantly melting the metal protecting the engine before completely disintegrating the engine itself.

At least, that was the plan. Pax didn't expect to see the glowing engine core actually absorb the energy bolt and then begin to glow even brighter until it was a brilliant and blinding blue-white light. Then, a second later, the light suddenly exploded around him and he found himself screaming in agony as he was bombarded by the energy wave.

And then…oblivion.

* * *

Back in the van, Horton only saw the monitor of his laptop go dead, informing him that his connection to the DAV had been severed or the mecha had been destroyed. However, he was distracted by the blue-white light that suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere and got brighter.

"What the-"

Horton never finished the sentence because the light suddenly vanished, along with Horton, the van, and everything within radius of two city blocks. Only the foundations of some of the buildings remained, along with the odd portion of pavement, and a lot of ash that got blown up into the sky as air rushed in to fill the empty void that had once been the location of Houston's Utopia District.


	41. Gamechanger II

Disclaimer: The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Aberrant, owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: As usual, thanks to everyone for still sticking around on this. JD Alvo, Shannon K, Nullchronicler, Rubypaladin, Concolor, Author of Lies, a bunch of other people who I can't remember, and that one guy (or girl) from the Russian Federation who keeps hitting this fic whenever I update.

And, always, reviews and threats are welcome.

* * *

_"Though the blast radius was relatively small, taking out little more than a city block, it does not take into account the loss of lives. As you can see, the explosion took out all buildings right from their foundation. We have reports that there have been breaches into parts of the city's sewer system but it thankfully did not go that far into the ground. The death toll cannot be determined since all that remained was ashes. Because it happened on a Sunday, Utopia experts estimate that roughly two thousand people could have been in the area and say the death toll could have been much higher had it been on a weekday when the Utopia District and surrounding businesses would be fully operating. A cold assurance, if any, and one that does not change the fact the death toll was still high."_

-Fox News

_"Given what has happened over the last month, I think it is safe to say that we live in troubled times and there could be even darker times ahead of us as progressive forces try to destroy our way of life. So, my advice to you is to take a good look at what you truly value in life, like your own assets, your family, and other loved ones. Realize what truly has value to you and take steps to protect yourself from the troubled times ahead. That's why, along with other steps, I invest in gold and our sponsors, GOLDLINE, can help you as well…"_

-Glenn Beck, "The Glenn Beck Program"

_"What happened in Houston was a great tragedy. Though not as big in scope as Mexico City, it resulted in the death of thousands. While we do not know what caused the tragedy, we at Project Utopia will assist in the investigation to determine what had happened."_

-Statement released by Project Utopia Director Justin Laragione to N!Channel.

_"According to witnesses who fled the area before the explosion, there was an attack of some sort against the Utopia Rashoud Facility in Houston. There were reports of gunmen in the street as well as some sort of advanced land-based combat drone that killed the two novas assigned to protect the facility and engaged in combat with Caestus Pax shortly before the explosion occurred."_

-ABC News

_"What happened in Houston is a tragic event that affects us all as Americans, novas and baselines alike. Though we do not know the whole truth, we do know that we were attacked and we fill find those responsible. Until then, we must not let this terrible event cripple us as a nation or force divisions among us. We cannot take action against those responsible until we know who is responsible. But until that time comes, all we can do is mourn for those who lost their lives, console those who survived, and try to recover and rebuild."_

-US President Laura Pendleton

_"One of the things that bother me is that Utopia has been very slow in responding to what happened to their little stronghold in Houston, you would think they would have learned something from the shit that happened in Mexico City last month. Sure, it wasn't as big and bad as Mexico City was, but is that the real reason? No, it's the fact that Houston is an American city and Utopia, being the one world government promoting sack of excrement that they are, enjoys the fact that it happened on US soil and you can bet they will use this as an excuse to force the US government to let Utopia expand its influence in how this country is run."_

-The McDevitt Minute Commentary

* * *

_To: All personnel, all departments_

_From: Justin Laragione, Director, Project Utopia_

_Subject: Emergency Recall_

_Effective immediately, all nova agents, including T2M personnel are ordered to cease operations immediately and report back to their respective bases. Those working on the recovery efforts in Mexico City are to remain in that area, but report in regularly to their superiors. All department heads overseeing nova personnel are advised to stand by and await further instruction._

_All nova agents operating in the American Theater of Operations are advised to demonstrate caution. We have reason to believe that a faction of Michaelites might have been responsible for the attack and may have access to technology that can effectively neutralize or kill a nova._

_More information will be provided as we gather more intelligence on the situation._

-Utopia memo from Director Justin Laragione

* * *

*Encrypted Transmission*

Primus Team Leader Falcon-1: "This is Falcon-1, our chopper has entered the hot-zone."

PRIMUS Control: "Copy that, Falcon-1, what are your readings?"

F-1: "Radiation levels are still minimal."

PC: "Thank God for that. Okay, Falcon-1, you are cleared to land. Get a recon, collect samples, and return immediately."

F-1: "Copy that, Command. Though I can tell you it's the same here as it was from the satellite feed...nothing but ash for about half a mile. Landing now." sounds of movement and orders being given out among the reconnaissance team can be heard "Oh god...still nothing control, just ash and the occasional piece of rubble that looks like part of a building foundation."

PC: "Stay frosty, Falcon-1. Any readings at all."

F-1: "Nothing, Command, it's just ash though we are getting some residual quantum readings...possibly from the blast or it could have been from the fight with Pax."

screaming can be heard

Falcon-2: "Gaaaaah! Something's got me...get it off! Get it off me!"

multiple weapons fire can be heard

F-1: "Hold your fire! Hold your fire!"

PC: "Falcon-1, what is your situation?"

F-1: "Everybody, back up...Jordan, easy now."

F-2: "Fuckin' A! The fucker just grabbed me."

Falcon-3: "Oh god...he's still alive..."

PC: "Falcon-1, I repeat, what is your situation?"

F-1: "Sorry, Command, we just discovered a body in the ashes...he's alive, grabbed Falcon-2's leg. Roll him over, carefully...oh jeez...Command, we need a medical team in here, now!"

PC: "Falcon-1?"

F-1: "He's extra crispy, but breathing, I'm not sure...but if the costume is any indication, we found Caestus Pax."

PC: "Holy Shit!"

*End Transmission*

* * *

_"It has been confirmed, Caestus Pax was found barely alive in what was left of Houston's Utopia District. Utopia representatives have not been in contact with Pax who is currently being detained by US based PRIMUS. In a brief press conference, PRIMUS Director Robert Kaufman confirmed that Pax was in critical condition and was being held in custody at an undisclosed location."_

-N!Channel News

_"So they find Pax in this pile of ash and, according to witnesses, he was 'critically injured'. Okay…this guy is freakin' 'Superman on steroids' and he's critically injured? I have to ask, what the hell could do that to him?"_

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

_"And now Utopia is whining about human rights. Pax was found near death, buried in ash, and they…along with their lemmings in the pro-Utopia media outlets…are crying about how those 'vile and evil' PRIMUS people are holding their poor champion in custody and not letting him have any contact with his Utopia friends. Well…gee…I wonder why. It's not like the bastard just incinerated a couple thousand people on US soil...oh wait…he did. Hey, Utopia…you want to bitch about human rights, what about those two thousand American citizens your boy just killed on our soil? Oh wait, we're Americans…in your book, we don't deserve human rights, do we?"_

-Jordan McDevitt, "The Jordan McDevitt Show"

* * *

**_6 November 2006_**

**_Bay City, Texas_**

**_Michaelite Compound_**

**_1100 Hrs_**

Buddy kept a somber expression on his face as he stepped up to the pulpit of the former Methodist Church that now served as one of the center of the Michaelite enclave in Bay City. Behind him, a large video screen showed still shots taken of the half mile ash-land that had once been a couple blocks of skyscrapers and high-rises in downtown Houston. Every couple seconds, photos of Theobald Horton or members of his team would randomly pop up, photos of them with their families or performing some recreational activity that impressed on the rest of the Michaelites that these men were just that…men who loved their families and way of life…and paid the ultimate price for it.

Inwardly, he was laughing his ass off at how easily these people were manipulated. Before the impromptu memorial service, he could hear some murmurs from the various people about wanting payback against Utopia and their 'filthy aberrant servants'. Of course, they only believed what they heard and saw.

_So…fucking…easy._

Then again, he couldn't blame them too much. After all, they, like everyone else tuned in to the world media, heard eyewitness accounts and saw limited footage that some had recorded via their camera phone as they fled the area. Everyone knew that Caestus Pax had engaged in combat with some sort of paramilitary group armed with advanced technology. Most of those (at least the ones who made it out of area before the explosion) saw the great Caestus Pax getting his ass kicked by this strange machine that looked like something out of some cheesy anime series.

However, it was the damning evidence that surfaced hours after the event that showed Caestus Pax, beaten, bloody, and battered, cutting loose with an energy burst that destroyed the machine…and disintegrated the surrounding area with it, killing every living thing there. No one was sure where the footage came from, but nobody really cared either since it was raw and unedited video footage.

_Of course, I hadn't intended for Pax to be the trigger…I was hoping for one of the smaller powerhouses like Anthony Chang or that idiot Saxon, but hey…this is so much better. Utopia's ultimate front-man and powerhouse, in a negligent and desperate use of his powers, kills a bunch of innocent men, women, and children._

Granted, that wasn't entirely the truth. The engine core was linked to the ZP field generator that was designed to absorb all attacks and transfer most of the energy absorbed to the engine core. Once enough energy was absorbed, the engine-core had been turned into a "clean" bomb that would detonate thirty seconds after the ZP field went down.

_Horton and his key supporters are dead, heroes for the cause. Pax and Utopia are seen as being negligent and heavy-handed…which is going to definitely have an impact on the upcoming US elections tomorrow. Already, a lot of Pro-Utopia politicians are trying to fucking distance themselves from Utopia because they know their chances of winning tomorrow just went down the fucking tubes._

He looked out at the two hundred people or so sitting in the sanctuary, noting the two cameras that were also recording this event and beaming the service to other Michaelite compounds across the country. Unconsciously, he tugged the sleeve of the blue three-piece suit he was wearing. When he last addressed the crowd, he was dressed more as a heroic and defiant resistance leader, not even bothering to apply the synth-flesh to cover his cybernetic arm.

However, today, he wanted to project a slightly different image.

_Until now, they saw Brother Gabriel as this angry and defiant leader, ready to spill the blood of his enemies. I want them to see that, but today, it will be as consoler._

He waited until the tiny video presentation ended with all fifty photos reappearing, scattering across the picture of the devastated Houston area along with big bold words that said, "WE WILL REMEMBER."

"We will remember," he said softly into the microphone on his headset before they echoed slightly through the sanctuary. "Three words that, when said, mean little to everyone except those that know what it is they remember and how it changed them."

He gazed out among the audience and noticed more than a few nodding in agreement; then he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and began to read from it.

"Theobald Horton…Tucker Morrison…Rene Martinez…Vitaly Braglovich…James Regan…Brad Hawkins…"

He crumpled the paper in his hand, closing his eyes, and choked for a moment before he could continue.

"Corin Chang…Wilson DeVore…BJ Trenton…Charles Cooper…Hugh McClellan…Ian Hutchins…Bryan Millar…Mark Arad…Avi Bendis…Sam Freeman…Morgan Jackson…Ed Beck…Glenn Schultz…George Kazner…Michael Norrie." He shook his head and dropped the paper on the ground as he opened his eyes, a tear running down his cheek. "I don't need a piece of paper to read off their names," he said before pausing to take a breath. "They were burned into my soul when I lost contact with them. It's hard to forget the names of the people who died trying to protect you."

More nods from crowd and a few soft "amens" were heard. Buddy briefly glanced off to the side where he could see Grand Deacon Piper, Esteban Torano, Milo Arboghast, and Timothy Ryder off stage. It was an interesting show of reactions. Piper nodded in understanding, Torano actually seemed moved by Buddy's words, Arboghast showed suspicion and hostility, and the tiniest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of Ryder's mouth.

_Interesting…Piper realizes I'm playing diplomatic games here to maintain unity, Torano actually looks like he's buying my bullshit, Arboghast is annoyed, and Ryder…he's trying not to laugh._

"Twenty one brave men who died so seven could carry out their mission against the Devil's own." He bowed his head for a moment, dropping his voice low. "I keep wondering if it was worth it, because it was not just those twenty-one men who died out there. Yes, there were servants of the dark one out there, people who supported the devil and his order…but they weren't the only ones. It was Sunday; the weekend…there were many others out there, families enjoying the weekend visit, some probably visiting relatives or friends. People who didn't have a damn thing to do with Utopia…their lives ended in a flash of light because one of the devil's children knew he was in trouble and decided to do whatever it took to win, even if it meant the death of innocents."

The sound of some people weeping and more than a few quiet prayers could be heard.

"Again," Buddy said solemnly, though it took a lot of effort to keep from chuckling at the bullshit he was feeding the crowd, "I ask myself if it was worth it. And while it is painful to admit, yes…it was worth it."

_Okay, _he thought, _they're hurting and in mourning…and some are already calling out for blood. Let's turn those calls into screams of rage, shall we?_

"It was no secret," he continued, "that Horton and I disagreed on a lot of things. I wanted to handle the assault myself, but he insisted by pointing out, rightfully so, that my group was not experienced in that type of work."

Again, he had to force himself not to smile. _Okay, that's not exactly true, but it's not a lie either. I don't think I need to tell everyone how easy it was to manipulate Horton into acting like his normal jack-ass self._

"And he was right, my crew would not have been able to stand up to Caestus Pax like he and his people did. One of the most powerful of the devil's children was descending upon them and they…stood…their...ground."

More "amens" were heard.

"They stood their ground, took the best Lucifer's own chosen had to offer, and spat it right back at him, fighting him to a bloody stand-still, and wounding him."

Shouts of affirmation and even a smattering of applause filtered through the crowd.

Then Buddy sadly shook his head. "However, that was when Pax decided to cut his losses. In desperation, he let loose. Just to kill twenty-one baselines who stood up to him, he felt the need to wipe out everything and everyone else in the immediate area."

That sentence silenced the crowd, once again reminding them of the tragedy that had occurred.

"Yes," he continued after a few seconds of silence, "a terrible price…but…it was worth it. The demon known as Caestus Pax is now maimed and weakened by his own desperate attempt. His masters have been revealed for the monsters that they are and are doing their best to sever ties to him."

The "amens" were back, accompanied by a few "hallelujahs".

"Pax is now in custody of true followers of God and, God willing, they will carry out the Lord's judgment on that beast once and for all."

More shouts of praise erupted from the crowd, but died down as Buddy held up a hand to quiet them.

"I know there are some here, particularly those who were close to the twenty-one who perished, who wish to be the ones to carry out God's judgment. I must remind you, however, of one important fact. 'Vengeance is mine,' sayeth the Lord…and he will use PRIMUS to deliver lawful justice to the demon they now hold. We, my brothers and sisters, must move on and look at the bigger picture and realize that Horton and his people did not die in vain."

On cue, the video screen behind him went blank for a moment before random photos began to appear, accompanied by a couple paragraphs of data. Buddy waited a couple seconds, letting the people in the audience wonder what was happening before he spoke.

"This," he said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb at the video screen, "is a direct and active link to Utopia's Rashoud Center Network in the United States. Information about every nova who has registered, or is currently registering, with Utopia is now accessible to us."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in.

"That's right, people. We now know who these abominations are, what they can do, where they live. This, brothers and sisters, is what Horton and the others gave their lives for: a chance to strike at the demons where they live and wipe them out. They cannot hide from us and we will follow them wherever they go. Let the Lord choose what is done with Pax, it is up to us to carry out the Lord's will by destroying the rest of the devil's children."

By now cheers were starting to rise up from the crowd. Buddy held up his hands and signaled them to quiet down again.

"We will remember," he said softly. "Repeat those words often, my brothers and sisters. For we will remember what Pax and Utopia are capable of and that we will show them no mercy for what they've done." The cheers began to return, but he didn't try to silence them this time. Instead, he raised a fist in the air and said more loudly. "We will remember."

"We will remember," some of the audience repeated.

"We. Will. Remember."

"We will remember!"

"**We will remember**!"

"_**WE WILL REMEMBER!"**_

Buddy allowed himself a smile as the entire church was filled with that chant.

_Shit…this is fucking awesome!_

* * *

It was an hour after the memorial service ended and Buddy was sitting in one of the church's classrooms and watching the news on his lap-top while he ate a delicious steak dinner provided by one of the Michaelites who owned a local restaurant. He was surprised when he learned earlier that Pax had survived the ZP explosion, but decided that it was probably a good thing.

_In addition to the footage we released to the public of him blasting away at the DAV and appearing to cause the explosion, he now faces charges of committing a mass murder on US soil under Utopia's orders. Shit…if I actually believed in God, I might believe he truly was on our side._

The sounds of footsteps brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see Micah Piper, Esteban Torano, and Milo Arboghast enter the room.

_Aw shit, _Buddy inwardly groaned, _and I was having such a good day._

"Gentlemen," he said, giving them a grin, "what can I do for you?"

"What was that?" Arboghast asked.

"What was what?"

"That farce of a sermon you delivered out there about Horton and his crew," Arboghast snapped.

"Oh that," Buddy said, "hold on a second." He took another bite of steak and shook his head. "Oh yeah, this steak is awesome. Gotta' love Texas beef, best in the world."

"I must confess, Gabriel," Piper said as he stepped forward. "You did seem to lay it on a little thick."

"Really?" The smile faded from Buddy's face as he set his plate on the table. "I didn't lie to them. Horton and his crew died valiantly while fighting Pax who went ape-shit and killed everything. I admitted to everyone that Horton and I didn't get along. However, if you wish for me to tell the people out there, 'Hey, your leadership really doesn't get a long and are constantly locked in a power struggle'; I'll be more than happy to do that."

"Watch your mouth," Arboghast said. "You set Horton up to die."

"I did?" Buddy asked. "Don't you think you're jumping to conclusions?"

"You must admit, Gabriel," Torano stepped forward and sat down across from Buddy, "that his death certainly helps you."

"Just like it helped all of you," Buddy countered. "C'mon, tell me that you aren't wasting time consolidating Horton's assets and personnel. He was a loose cannon and a jarhead whose hotheaded actions would have cost us all at some point down the line. Hell, that's what got him killed in the first place."

"What do you mean by that?" Piper asked.

"I warned Horton not to get cocky when he was using the DAV. I told him that the engine core was unstable and that he was to power it down and get the hell out of there when we carried our part of the mission." Buddy pushed back the chair he was sitting in and stood up. "But Theo was too busy getting off on the fact that he was beating the shit out of Pax. I warned him several times not to push it and not get cocky. Instead, he chose to stay and fight Pax…and it cost him."

"Nice fairytale," Arboghast sneered. "Do you expect us to believe you?"

"No," said a new voice. Piper and the other two leaders turned to see Ryder standing behind them, "but you will believe me. After all, Grand Deacon Piper sent me to monitor both of them."

Both Torano and Arboghast looked at Piper in shock. "Is this true, Micah?" Torano asked.

"Yes," Piper replied. "I was aware of the hostility between Gabriel and Horton, so I arranged to have a failsafe in place. Gabriel stayed to his part of the plan; it was Horton who deviated from it."

"And it cost him," Ryder replied. "He should be thankful he had died in the explosion, because I would have executed him myself had he survived." He then gestured in Buddy's direction. "However, I could follow Gabriel's suggestion and make it public that the so called leadership of the Church of Michael is fragmented and at war with itself."

"He is not part of the leadership," Arboghast snarled, pointing at Buddy. "And neither are you."

Ryder tilted his head at one side and Buddy once again saw that cold and predatory look on the young man's face. "Well," he said, "you're right. But it doesn't change the fact that Gabriel has done for the movement than you have lately. As for myself…well, I'm sure I would assume some sort of leadership within the movement to help fill in the power vacuum should something…unfortunate…happen to you."

Buddy once again looked over the young man and was beginning to wonder what kind of childhood he must have had. _Shit, this kid is barely in his twenties and is a cold-blooded killer._

"You think you can threaten me, boy?" Arboghast challenged as he started to approach the young man.

Before anyone could react, Ryder's right arm moved in a blurring motion and a throwing knife sailed right past Arboghast's head before embedding itself into a wall.

"Yes." A simple one word reply from the young man, but it spoke volumes.

Arboghast reached up and felt the side of his head before looking at his hand. He was shocked to see blood from a light flesh wound. He then looked up at Ryder, face reddening in anger, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the young man now had a .45 automatic pointed at him.

"It would be self-defense, Brother Arboghast," Ryder replied calmly. "So, please, by all means…justify me pulling the trigger."

"Timothy," Piper said softly, "I think you made your point."

For a moment, Ryder did nothing, keeping the gun leveled at Arboghast.

"Put it away, kid," Buddy said. "He's not worth the bullet."

After another moment, Ryder lowered his weapon and put it back in its shoulder holster.

_Interesting,_ Buddy thought, _he wouldn't lower his weapon until I told him to. Why do I get the feeling someone's loyalty just shifted into my favor?_

"Well, now that we've settled that conflict," Piper said, oblivious to what just happened. "I would like to ask you, Gabriel, what do you plan to do now?"

"At the moment, finish my steak," Gabriel replied. "Then, I think I'll lay low for awhile because we've caused enough damage." He then gestured to the streaming newscast on his lap-top. "As you can see, the actions in Houston are sending shockwaves throughout the US. All those pro-Utopia politicians who were up for re-election or running for office for the first time just saw their political future fucking explode in front of them. Hell, your buddy Arlen Kinsey will not only hold on to his seat in the Senate, he'll have a bunch of new people backing him."

"We're not a political movement, Gabriel," Torano said.

"Like hell we aren't," Buddy fired back. "I believe you said it yourself a few months ago in one of your speeches, Esteban. I think it went something along the lines of it is our duty, as citizens of this great country, to make sure our elected leaders are those that truly support the will of the people and not that of foreign interests. Not exactly an original speech, but your version of it was pretty fucking cool actually. Although, to be fair, we really aren't a political movement, we're the power-brokers now. Our actions will put people in office that favor our cause. Unlike politicians, we get things done."

"Enough of your posturing," Arboghast hissed. "Grand Deacon Piper, this man is a danger to us here. He makes us a bigger target by his presence."

"Actually," Buddy said, cutting off Piper before he could respond, "I agree with the dickless one. My presence here could be a liability to you, so I've decided that it is best that I relocate to an enclave away from here. That way, Micah, it gives you deniability and Arboghast won't whine so much."

"Where will you go?" Piper asked, holding up a hand to silence any objection coming from Arboghast.

Buddy smiled as he closed his lap-top. "Oh, I don't know…I'm thinking about moving out to the coast. I hear California is nice this time of year."

* * *

**_PRIMUS Facility_**

**_Location Unknown_**

Pain…that was the first thing he felt. Searing pain, just like he felt when that blue-white light enveloped him before he experienced the oblivion of unconsciousness. But now…he was awake…he was alive.

_I live?_

But he could still feel the pain…pain he had long forgotten since he had erupted as a nova. It was the kind of pain that he associated with burn injuries and he could feel it all over his body, itching, searing, and a constant reminder of what he went through.

He could feel the slight pressure of a breathing mask on his face. After a couple seconds, he managed to open his eyes and blink them a couple times. From the sight and sounds, he was in a hospital room. Despite the pain, he tried to move, only to feel his arms and legs bound to the hospital bed.

_How can this be? My strength…it's gone!_

"Don't bother, Shelby," he heard someone say. He turned his head and saw a man wearing black and gold body armor with the American flag on the front of his costume. "With all the fucking 'mox we got pumped in your body," Kaufman said as he stepped out of the shadows of the room, "you're about as dangerous as a newborn kitten."

"Kaufman," Caestus Pax managed to gasp.

"Yeah," Robert Washington Kaufman aka The Golden Avenger said. "It's me, Major. And this time, we're going to finish up were we left off."

"You…you can't do this," Pax said, "I am an authorized agent of Project Utopia."

"Yeah…yeah…I know," Kaufman said, grinning at a man he had hated most of his life. "You're the Director of Team Tomorrow, you have diplomatic immunity, and you're a fucking superhero. Somehow, none of that shit is going to help you out this time."

"You can't hold me here," Pax said.

"Oh, but I can. You see, Major Shelby Eisenfaust, I can assure you that I very legitimate reason to hold you here."

"If you're referring to what happened back then, I have immunity, I have…arrrgh!"

Kaufman shook his head as he stopped pushing down on Pax's ribcage. "Oh, I'm sorry, did that fucking hurt?" he asked. "I'm sure it's not as bad what your fellow marines felt down in Mexico all those years ago when you led them into that ambush. Tell me something, how much did the cartels offer you to betray your own brothers-in-arms? I know Clinton's cutbacks were cutting us to the bone, but I never thought you would have sold your own people out like that. It just pissed me off that his lackeys kept postponing your sentence. If Bush was in charge, you would have been executed right off."

"Who are you trying to kid, Kaufman? You call yourself a hero, but all you are is a psychotic with power."

Kaufman threw back his head laughed at that. "Oh, really," he said, "I can't believe someone like you is saying that. At least I didn't abandon my country like you did. But all that means nothing to me. You remember the day you erupted? I do. It was the day they were going to finally line your ass up in front of a firing squad and execute you. But now, you had to fucking erupt, get powers, and escape."

"I did what I had to," Pax replied through clenched teeth, "to survive."

"Oh yeah, by incinerating your executioners and then tearing through the base, inflicting more casualties on the way out." Kaufman brought his fist down hard into Pax's stomach, causing the man to wheeze in pain. "My son was a guard at the facility and you killed him!"

Kaufman then stepped back as he watched Caestus Pax thrash around, screaming and cursing, but helpless to do anything else. He took a moment to compose himself and then stepped forward. "However," he continued as he looked down at the defiant Pax, "that is all in the past, conveniently purged and scrubbed away by your masters at Project Utopia. All those records, gone…but that's okay." He then smiled as he held up a small datapad that played a video clip that showed Pax flying up in the air and unleashing a burst of quantum energy that caused some sort of explosion. Then the data-pad showed a still image of the ashen remains of the Utopia District in Houston. "Caestus Pax, by order of the President of the United States Government, I hereby place you under arrest for the mass murder of a couple thousand people on US soil."

Pax's eyes widened in horror as he saw the image replay itself on the datapad and Kaufman chuckled as he saw the defiance disappear to be replaced by something Pax never showed before…fear.

"Like I said, Major, the past doesn't matter. The whole world saw this happen and your masters can't do anything to help you." Kaufman then kneeled down to be eye-level with Pax and lowered his voice slightly. "Here's what's going to happen, you're going to be put on trial, you will be found guilty, and, God willing, I'll be the one to carry out the sentence. Then, because of your actions, certain friends of mine are going to push for certain legislation that will insure that freaks like you will never harm American citizens again. And given your recent actions, I'm willing to bet that legislation will have more than a chance at passing in a newly elected congress."

He stood back up and looked down at Pax one last time. "So, you see, Major, you did serve your country in a way. Thanks to you, I'll be back in power and I'll be able to set this country on the right track." As he turned and started to walk away, he could hear Pax struggling to break free and smiled as he heard the flush of chemicals passing through the machinery as it was pumped into the IV lines connected to the nova.

"Kaufman!" Pax tried to yell. "You..you..won't get away..with…" He never finished his sentence as the moxinaquantimine and other sedatives knocked him unconscious.

Kaufman turned and looked at the now comatose Pax and chuckled. "God bless America, indeed." He was still snickering as he exited the room and paused to talk to one of the doctors coming in to check on Pax's condition. "Doctor, do me a favor, double the dosage on this bastard, will you?"


	42. Gamechanger III

Disclaimer: The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Aberrant, owned by White Wolf.

Author's Notes: As usual, thanks to everyone for still sticking around on this. Wasn't sure about this chapter, but I guess it's okay for me.

And, always, reviews and threats are welcome.

* * *

"_That's right, everybody, it's election day or, for those politicians who spent the last eight years on their knees sucking up to Utopia for monetary gain and political power, it's just JUDGMENT DAY. It's funny how that works, isn't it? Utopia's dirty laundry started being aired about a few months ago, but it was a mere trickle and they were able to cover it up. Some politicians saw the writing on the wall and a few of them decided to get out while they can and not run for re-election. Those two or three people have managed to carefully stow away what money they got from raping the American people and put them in off-shore accounts that can't be touched. When they leave office in January, they'll be leaving the country to enjoy their gains and probably get a job as a 'consultant' for Utopia."_

"_The others won't be as lucky. Because of the little war that's erupted between uber-mega-smart wiz kid David Flynn and Utopia, a lot of shit got exposed and several more American politicians were scrambling to distance themselves from Utopia and do as much damage control as possible. Add to the fact that Caestus Pax barbecued a couple city blocks just to take out some terrorists this last Sunday, it's no wonder we're seeing a lot of reversals at the polls overnight of a lot of politicians._

"_Now, I'm not going to take sides in this, but I want to just point out a few facts here. Fact one, most Democrats, particularly those on the far-left, are pro-Utopia and have pretty much embraced the whole 'progressive one-world/one-government' agenda and they are now getting burned by it. Fact two; In contrast, only a few Republicans, dubbed RINOs…that's 'Republican In Name Only' for those of you who don't understand that acronym…embraced the Utopia agenda and, like their liberal lemming counterparts, are also feeling the heat. However, let's talk about fact three; Republicans are making some gains, but it's the Libertarian Party and some independents that are the big winners here._

"_Let's face the facts people, yeah, ever since Galatea and the emergence of Project Utopia, the world has seen advancements and improvement but a lot of people are starting to feel that Project Utopia is starting to look a little bit like a sugar-glazed Orwellian paradise. It doesn't help that some developed nations are being hit by UN/Utopia sanctions that are starting to hurt their economies while a lot of developing third world nations are given a free pass on some things as well as free goodies from Utopia along with whatever money the Utopia and the UN swipe from the developed nations under the guise of various environmental programs or fees when it comes to developing and marketing new technology._

"_In other words, Utopia, is screwing over one group of people by taking their wealth and tech and then redistributing it to the rest of the world by saying it's for humanitarian reasons or, my favorite line of bullshit they like to spout, 'for the good of the world'. It's no wonder a lot of Democrats and a few RINOs willingly followed Utopia; they believed in the same thing…as well as got financial kickbacks and endorsement from Utopia when it came time for elections._

"_Except, now…Utopia's been caught doing some ugly shit, their front man incinerated at least a couple thousand people, and they can't use their vast media resources to spin their way out of this. They're royally screwed and any politician in the United States, or the world for that matter, that supports them is going to get screwed as well._

"_As far as the American voters are concerned, it's payback time, bitches. A lot of people have felt that Utopia has pretty much screwed them in favor of 'the other guy'. And now, they're going to sodomize Utopia and its followers at the ballot box._

"_And for that, I say, God bless America."_

**-Jordan McDevitt, "The Jordan McDevitt Show"**

* * *

_Ted Doherty: "And here we are on Election Day 2006. Tonight, we're going to discuss the results as they come in and with me today, representing the Democratic National Committee is Logan Mitchell. And, representing the GOP, we have Taylor Wilkins. Gentlemen, thank you both for being here."_

_Logan Mitchell: "Thanks for having me on."_

_Taylor Wilkins: "Happy to be here."_

_TD: "Gentlemen, let's cut right to the chase. Early results indicate that the Democrats are taking a hit and some believe it's because most of them support Project Utopia and Utopia has been implicated in some actions that some Americans see as enemy action. What do you have to say about that?"_

_LM (laughing): "Don't you think that's overkill there, Ted? I mean, like you said, these are the early results. I also think it's an exaggeration about how much support Utopia gets from Democrats."_

_TW: "Actually, according to a study and going by their voting records, it's about eighty-two percent of Democrats in office that blindly support Project Utopia."_

_LM: "Well, I guess that's true if rely only on information from FOX news and don't look anywhere else that provides more truthful data."_

_TW: "Actually, I'm reading off of CNN's tracking, not Fox's."_

_LM: "Well, that's only one other network, not all of them report that."_

_TD: "Be that as it may, gentlemen, there is no denying that Democratic candidates across the nation are taking hits and losing ground and most of them were those supporting pro-Utopia measures. Even you must admit that there has been some sort of voter backlash over what Utopia and its people have done."_

_LM: "And again, I think it's an exaggeration. Yes, I'll admit some candidates might have suffered some reversals, but this is hardly a backlash."_

_TW: "Really, an exaggeration, huh? I suppose your hero, Pax, merely exaggerated part of Houston into ashes."_

_LM: "That was uncalled for and I'm not even going to dignify that remark by responding to it."_

_TW: "No more than half your people painting us as hate-mongers or as 'Nazi Party 2.0'…a remark, I might add, that you have made in the past."_

_LM: "Do you really want to go down that road, Wilkins? Because I could always point out where some of your party's funding comes from."_

_TW: "Why not? Because I'd love to show the world that a majority of yours comes from those high and mighty pricks sitting in Addis Ababa and Chicago."_

_TD: "Gentlemen, please…let's get back on topic here."_

**-Election Day Clip with Ted Doherty, "The Doherty Group", CNN**

* * *

"_What happened in Houston a couple days ago was a tragic event and believe me when I say I'm not trying to downplay what happened. A group of people attacked the Utopia District using a piece of advanced technology that, according to witnesses, was able to fight Caestus Pax to a standstill. I will not dispute that fact. I also won't dispute the fact that Project Utopia, uncharacteristically, sent one lone nova instead of their usual Team Tomorrow task force to deal with a threat that had already killed two novas. Perhaps they thought Caestus Pax, as powerful as he was, was enough but I'm no mind reader and I can't determine what the higher-ups at Utopia were thinking._

"_But, Pax was not enough and, in an act of desperation, unleashed the full extent of his powers to destroy his enemy along with everyone and everything else within a couple blocks. It is interesting to note that most of the people in the Utopia District were people who either worked their, ran businesses that serviced Utopia, or, since it was the weekend, were tourists who supported Utopia and wanted to be close to a place where their heroes might appear. What I'm trying to say is this; to kill a handful of people who opposed them, Utopia sent someone who was willing to sacrifice a couple thousand of their supporters in the process._

"_At least, that's what it looks like. And, if that happens to be the case, what do you think Utopia is willing to sacrifice if they face a greater threat, another city block…two blocks…a whole city? I don't know about you, but I could see the last one happening, especially if most of the people in the city don't support Utopia. If they had their way, I could see them doing that, all the while saying what a sad tragedy it was, and then help rebuild that city the way they want it to be on the ashes of those that opposed them._

"_Well, that's not going to happen, not our watch. Come this January, expect to see some changes in America, changes that will make America great again and free the country from eight years of serfdom to a one-world agenda."_

**-United States Senator Arlen Kinsey, Republican, Texas**

* * *

**7 November 2006**

_**SST Building**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**2100 Hrs**_

David sat in the darkness of his office; the only light in the room came from the holographic projection coming from his desk-comp as he watched footage of the attack on the Utopia District in Houston and the ensuing battle with Caestus Pax. He and Zoe had just returned from their trip to New York on Sunday when the "incident" in Houston happened. The first thing he did was link to the net and into various satellite networks that could give him a scan of the area.

When he first saw the raw footage of Pax supposedly unleashing hell on Earth, incinerating the DAV combat drone, David was immediately skeptical. Pax was a lot of things, but he wasn't that stupid and, after acquiring the specs to the DAV combat drone, David was certain that there was no way Pax could have triggered such an explosion. Sure, it might of melted and glassed part of the area, but it would have merely vaporized the DAV. There also wasn't any reason Pax would have any trouble tearing the mecha apart with minimal effort. Instead, the DAV stood up against Pax, absorbing most of the Pax's attacks and receiving little damage thanks to some sort of force-field technology.

_Obviously, someone knew what they were doing and souped this thing up, but that list is very small._

Then he linked up to one of the military satellites that was over the area to get some energy readings. What he discovered not only shocked him, but confirmed the one thing he had feared since the attack on Mexico City: someone not only had access to ZP technology, but they successfully weaponized it.

He recalled the phone conversation he had last week where the possibility of such technology might have been used in Mexico City. He was certain that it wasn't possible because he was the only one who even knew how to do such a thing.

_Except for my dead father._

He closed his eyes, mentally enhancing his link to the net, causing his physical body to enter a comatose state. When he re-opened his "eyes", he was sitting atop the tallest tower of a digital fortress that was representation of SST's networks and it's many firewalls and security programs. A fortress surrounded by smaller and independent networks that represented other businesses or links in the Metroville area, all of it on a digital island afloat in a sea of light that represented the flow of information. He knew very well that what he perceived was very different than how others with similar abilities perceived it.

_Sadly, there are maybe a handful of us who can truly see and appreciate this. Then again…perhaps it is better this way._

"Wow," he heard a familiar voice say behind him, "you're tempting fate, aren't you?"

David smiled as he turned around to face the golden glowing figure that represented Synapse. "How so?" he asked.

"Sitting here in cyberspace on top of your security measures instead inside," Synapse replied. "I thought you would have been more cautious after what happened a few days ago."

"Maybe you're right, but I figured you were watching this area, doing your usual hacking/surveillance thing on me for your Teragen associates and this was the best way to get your attention so we could talk."

Synapse nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see…with so much communication traffic going around right now, operating out in 'public' like this will just be regarded as some meaningless data transaction." He then chuckled and shook his head. "Gotta' hand it to you, Flynn, you've got balls to do that." Then his laughter faded as he noticed the serious look on David's face. "Okay, man, what's going on? Why talk to me directly like this?"

"It's about the conversation I had with you and our 'not quite dead' friend," David said as he leaned against the virtual wall of the data tower. "He's right."

Synapse glowing yellow eyes dimmed at that. "You sure about this?" he asked.

David nodded. "Yeah," he replied, "I'm very sure. They didn't just weaponize it, they perfected it."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, Synapse, I know Pax is a douche-bag and all-around asshole, but I can tell you right now that he did not cause that cluster-fuck in Houston."

"How can you be so sure about that?" Synapse walked up next to David and stared out at the digital sea surrounding them. "I mean, he is mega-powerful and all...or so he claims."

"Exactly, that's just it; Caestus Pax cranks out a lot of power. If he truly cut loose out of desperation, he would have wiped out half the city and not just two blocks. Also, the DAV's engine core would merely have vaporized. Yeah, there might have been some damage to the building and maybe a few casualties, but nothing like what happened." David gestured with his right hand and a three-dimensional cube appeared in front of them, flashing a stream of data from the scene. A moment later another small cube appeared, flashing similar data. "And then you've got these," he said. "The data on the left is from the energy readings I got from Houston. The left is from Mexico City." With both hands, he caused both cubes to merge together, their readings meshing together in perfect alignment. "Anything look familiar to you."

"They look identical, though the Mexico reading seems a little more faint."

"Yeah, that's because most of the energy readings were coming from under Mexico City. It's as if something similar to Houston had gone off, but instead of wiping out buildings topside, it just took out a bunch of ground underneath it."

Synapse nodded as he saw where this was going. "Okay, I see that, and because Mexico City was already sitting on a major fault line, the resulting quake would have been easy to trigger. But I don't see how..." The golden man's eyes suddenly lit up again. "Oh...shit. There were reports before the incident in Mexico City that multiple missile launches were detected but, according to survivors, the missiles didn't detonate, they just burrowed underground."

"That's right, then they went off, leaving a their quantum signature. I'm getting those exact readings coming from Houston, but above ground."

"Okay, I'll buy that," Synapse admitted, "but I thought you said it would be Sau Paulo again, but much worse. Yeah, a lot of people died in Houston, but it's nowhere near the catastrophe of what happened in Brazil a couple years ago."

"Well, when you think about it, it is," David said. "Yeah, the 'blast' was small, but hardly a blast. Just giant flash of blue-white light and 'poof', nothing but ashes remain of everything in that area. Also add in the fact that with the exception of the residual quantum radiation, there was no radioactive fall-out like the fission bomb in Sau Paulo." A somber expression then formed on his face. "You want my theory, Synapse? I think Pax was set up. This explosion was going to happen, regardless. It was concise, controlled, and only two people I know of could do something like that. You're talking to one of those people right now, the other is dead."

Synapse turned and looked over at Flynn. Though his golden face has no facial features, the glowing eyes dimmed a little and his body movements indicated he seemed to be lost in thought. "Are you sure?" he finally asked.

"Synapse, the fucker was sucked through a jet engine and spewed out his remains all over Metroville when the craft exploded."

"And I ask you again, Flynn, are you sure?"

David sighed heavily, looked down at the ground for a moment, then back out at at the digital sea again. "Synapse, have you ever read Sherlock Holmes?"

"Not really," Synapse replied. "Don't get me wrong, I think he's a cool character and I loved watching various movies based on him, but reading Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's works tended to put me to sleep when I was a baseline." Then he chuckled softly, "And I still tend to zone out when e-reading his stuff too."

"But do you remember that one line? The one that starts out with: 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains...'"

"'_however improbable_,'" Synapse cut in, remembering that quote, "'must be the truth.' Oh yeah, that I do remember. But you said so yourself, your father was sucked into and chopped to pieces by a jet engine. Do you think he might have survived?"

"I still want to say no, Synapse. I really want to say that he is dead and his remains have become fertilizer and dust particles."

"But you're not so sure about that now, are you?"

"No."

* * *

_**7 November 2006**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**2300 Hrs**_

Phillipa Lavielle didn't like these sudden emergency meetings and she was certain the other three novas accompanying her didn't care for it either. Chiraben was mildly annoyed that his night off had been interrupted (which Phillipa could understand because her night with him had been interrupted), Velocity didn't appreciate being woken up, and Zone…well, the albino nova seemed to betray no emotion one way or the other.

In fact, Zone merely stood there several feet away from everyone, arms folded and waiting patiently. Phillipa often wondered if people had mistaken Zone for a mannequin wearing an expensive three-piece suit that he always seemed to wear. Though the man hardly ever spoke (Phillipa heard him maybe speak over two dozen words total in the time since she took over as Director), he gave off a quiet but ominous presence that unsettled most people, including Chiraben.

"Is the area secure?" she asked.

Zone nodded and then pointed into the shadow of the warehouse they were standing in front of.

Phillipa turned to look in the direction Zone was pointing. "Okay," she said, "you brought me over here from Chicago and broke cover to talk to me, so you better have a damn good reason."

"Trust me, Director, this truly was worth it." A middle-aged man stepped out of the shadows and approached. The rumpled suit he wore and the tired look in his eyes told Phillipa that he hadn't slept much and, more than likely, had been on the run. "With that bastard Dicker and his crew questioning everyone, it would have been a matter of time before they discovered my connections to The Triton Foundation and eventually you."

"It's no secret that Triton is a medical organization funded by Aeon and that a lot of people in the medical field have connections to it," Phillipa said. "Your cover would have remained intact, Agent Morris, if you merely acted like the doctor you are."

Doctor William Morris shook his head as he reached into his coat. "No, Director, not this time. If I hadn't acted and they didn't catch on to me, they would have discovered me when they tried to adjust my memory like they did with everyone who worked on that Parr girl."

Phillipa paused for a moment, a curious look on her face. "Let me get this straight," she said, "NSA Director Dicker is authorizing memory alteration on all medical staff involved with Violet Parr's hospitalization? Why? It's not like we don't know about her and her family."

"Agreed, Director," Morris said as he pulled a glass vial out of his coat. "But this is more than that."

Phillipa took the offered vial of blood and read the label. "Okay, so you got a blood sample from Violet Parr, I can see why the NSA would be concerned. However, it hardly justifies breaking cover."

"That sample was taken after the procedure that was used on her," Morris said quickly. "That blood…it's light-years ahead of what we have going on at Triton."

Phillipa did a light scan of the man's mind and could sense the man was very nervous. "Would you mind telling me what has you worried about this?" she asked, holding up the vial.

"Violet Parr, as you know, was brought in last week, bleeding and dying from that round she took."

"Well, that usually happens when you get shot by a sniper," Phillipa said, glancing over at Chiraben and giving him a knowing grin that he returned.

"Well, we managed to stabilize her, but we knew that she would eventually die. David Flynn knew that too."

"Flynn," Phillipa chuckled. "It must have been terrible for him, not having the technology or the knowledge to save her."

"He didn't, which is why he brought in some eccentric guy named Saunders or something."

Phillipa's smile suddenly faded. "Saunders," she repeated, "as in a Doctor Aaron Saunders?"

"Yeah…and get this…he and his daughter are some sort of robotics experts." Morris chuckled bitterly. "I couldn't figure out what they were talking about, but Flynn was having an argument with the Parr girl's parents about why he called the Saunders' in. This went on for a day or two; the Parr girl's condition was starting to deteriorate while no decision was made…until Bridgette Saunders injected something into Parr." He looked down for a moment and shook his head. "It was the damndest thing…it's hard to describe, but short version: whatever they injected her with, healed her. Bone, organ, and tissue regeneration…within hours…I couldn't believe it. I knew I had to act fast when I saw the readings. I wasn't able to procure a sample of whatever Saunders had, but I managed to get a blood sample from Violet Parr. I've been on the run ever since."

Phillipa studied the blood vial for a moment. "I see," she said, nodding. "You're right; this probably is worth breaking your cover for." Phillipa kept her expression neutral and waited until Morris started to relax before she let the other shoe drop. "However," she added, "they probably know you're missing and you took something which means you have become a liability to us."

"Wh-what?" Morris' face paled. "I thought you said it was worth breaking cover."

"Well, yes, it was...I'm sure this blood sample will prove to be very valuable." Then she frowned. "Your mistake was that you ran away the moment the NSA started adjusting memories. If you had simply arranged to take the day off and quietly dropped the sample off to one of your Triton contacts and remained in town, the NSA wouldn't have been suspicious. You broke your routine and rabbited, now you have them actively looking for you."

She took a step forward towards Morris, but stopped when the man suddenly pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. She arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Seriously?" she asked, surprised that he would try something like that.

"Oh, I knew better than to come here unprepared," Morris said. Though he still appeared a little nervous, he showed more confidence since he had the Director of Aeon at gunpoint. "I know of your abilities, Director Lavielle. If you or any of your friends try anything, you'll be the first one killed."

Phillipa rolled her eyes and sighed, raising her hands in surrender. "Well, I guess you got me."

Morris didn't waver. "Good to hear that, so here's wha-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Phillipa watched as the soon to be late Agent Morris (she figured he would live for at least a few more seconds) suddenly shot up into the air and kept going. She then turned and saw Velocity looking up at the sky and snickering. "Now, Vel," she said in a mock stern tone, "that was uncalled for."

Velocity shrugged. "Maybe," she replied, "but it was funny." Then she looked up again and pointed. "But look, he's coming back." Everyone looked up in the sky and saw what appeared to be a shooting star as what was left of Agent Morris burned up in low-earth orbit.

Chiraben laughed as he wrapped an arm around Phillipa's waist. "You have to admit, babe, it is kind of cool."

"Yeah," Phillipa admitted, leaning back into Chiraben's embrace as she watched the tiny fireball rapidly dissipate. "And they won't bother looking for his ashes in the planet's jet-stream." Then she held up the vial of blood. "So, let's see if this blood was worth the hype Morris gave it."

"One thing though," Chiraben said. "I know he fucked up, but why kill him like that? You've let other people live for making worse mistakes. Hell, I know I've screwed up a couple time and you haven't killed me yet."

Phillipa smiled at him. "Well, despite our relationship, you know very well I wouldn't hesitate to kill you if you made an irreversible mistake. Morris made a mistake that couldn't be corrected and had become a liability."

Chiraben returned her smile. "And what makes you think I won't try to kill you before you kill me?"

"I don't." Phillipa then kissed him. "That's why I love you; we're both venomous creatures who can take each other out at anytime. Mutually assured destruction and love at the same time, it's an intriguing situation actually."

Chiraben gave her a coy look. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

"Oh, maybe a little," Phillipa confessed. She then looked over at Zone. "Zone, take us back to Chicago, will you? I have to punish Chiraben here for questioning my actions."

"Chains and chocolate strawberries?" Chiraben asked.

"Oh yes!"

"Please, you two," Zone said, shocking everyone, "get a room already." Before anyone could say anything in response, they vanished in a flash of white light as he teleported them all back to Chicago.

* * *

_**SST Building**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**2300 Hrs**_

Zoe sat in the lounge of the SST lobby, sipping her mocha as she, like others in the lounge area watched the local election results on television. Though most of them really didn't give a damn about politics (Zoe still had a year to go before she could vote anyway), they were interested in the local mayoral elections since Mayor Oliver Sansweet (a Utopia suck-up who had spent his twelve years in office dividing Metroville into pro-Utopia and anti-Utopia camps) was facing off against Councilman Lucius Best who, despite not having Utopia funding and backing, was taking the fight to the incumbent.

Zoe then looked over at Damon Best, a member of the salvage crew that David had hired to accompany him to Mexico City. The young black man and a couple of his co-workers high-fived each other as the vote returns signaled that his uncle now had a solid lead over Sansweet. She smiled and nodded at Damon before becoming lost in her own thoughts.

Ever since she, David, and Null returned from their quick trip to New York, Zoe couldn't help wondering about what she really knew about David. Granted, she only knew him for less than a year, but there was not doubt that she and David clicked somehow. She never really believed in the sappy of "true love" or making that "one connection", but she could sense it with David and she knew he felt the same way. Of course, David's concern about her legality also amused her and she enjoyed teasing him about it.

However, she started to ask herself what she truly knew about the guy. Yes, she knew that he was a nova (like herself), but she got the impression there was more to the story. She knew that he was the son of Buddy Pine, a psychotic madman who killed several supers over a decade ago, but that was public knowledge that David didn't bother hiding. In fact, David Pine Flynn (he had adopted the surname of his adopted family) was a contrast to his biological father. David never hid the truth from her when it came to Project Utopia and she, aside from Null (and possibly NSA Director Dicker), knew about what had happened in Redfield, Oklahoma a year ago (she remembered David waking up in his private suite and screaming from a nightmarish flashback, one of the few times she had seen him show fear and weakness).

However, the meeting she and David had with Utopia Director Laragione and the mysterious woman called Thetis, brought some questions.

**_"It's hard to believe that you killed those six agents when you were just ten years old," Thetis said, a cold look in her eyes. "One shot each, in their heads."_**

**_"David, what's she talking about?"_**

**_"Oh, didn't David tell you about his past?" Thetis' voice was sickly sweet as she spoke, but it only made her sound more sinister. "You never told her what you truly are, did you?"_**

**_"She knows enough," David countered. "She knows about Redfield."_**

**_"Ah," Thetis nodded her head in acknowledgment, "so she knows about that, but she doesn't know everything about you, does she? Tell me, do the others at SST know who and what you are?"  
_**

Zoe couldn't help what she meant by that, but was hesitant to ask David about it. It was clear on the way back home that David was thinking about other things and focusing on who had tried to murder him online. Then the event in Houston happened and David locked himself up in his office/suite, only coming out to eat, briefly talk to Null, or check on Violet who had been relocated from the hospital to her own suite. When she tried to approach him, he didn't ignore her, but he seemed to find something important to deal with and promised he would talk to her.

This bothered Zoe, but she was certain that David wasn't angry at her. She saw something in his eyes that made it clear that he was worried about something. Usually, when something like that happened, he would confide in her. But now, he seemed to be avoiding her, trying to lock her out.

She asked Null about it, and his answer wasn't all that assuring. "When he wants to talk to you about it, he will," he had told her. "Just don't push him, because that will make him consider removing you completely."

"Why would he do that?" Zoe asked.

"Because he doesn't want to risk losing you too." The moment he said that, Null must have realized he said too much because he immediately excused himself, claiming that he had to take care of a security matter.

That conversation was yesterday, and now Zoe found herself wondering what David was hiding from her.

_What has him so scared that he can't confide in me?_

She felt someone sit down in the chair next to her. "A lot of crazy things happening, huh?" she heard someone say.

She turned to look at whoever it was that dared to interrupt her thoughts. "Sorry, I really don't have time to…" She stopped in mid-sentence when she saw who she was talking to. It took her a couple seconds to recover enough to speak again. "V-Violet?"

Wearing a pair of sweats, Violet smiled back at her. "Wow," she said, "I think this is the first time I've seen you speechless…a first."

Everyone else in the lounge suddenly stopped what they were doing when they realized that Violet has down there in the lounge with them. For several seconds, no one said anything until Violet shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Yes, people, it's me…whatever you shot me up with made me better…no, I don't want to talk about it, carry on."

After a couple seconds, everyone went back to what they were doing, though some people did occasionally glance in her direction.

"Um, yeah," Zoe finally said. "How are you doing?"

"Oh I don't know," Violet deadpanned, "I took a sniper round meant for David, almost died, ended up in a coma, got shot up with only God-knows-what, and now I'm fully conscious less than a week after nearly dying, wondering why everyone is staring at me like I have some sort of disease. Other than that and the fact I'm craving a steak right now, I'm fine…pissed off a little, but otherwise fine."

"Oookay," Zoe said. "You know, I don't remember you being this snarky." Then she smiled. "I like it."

"Next time, you get shot and try not to be annoyed about it, okay?"

"No thanks, I'll pass." Zoe couldn't help giggling despite the situation. "I'm sorry, Vi…it just feels so good to trade smart-ass comments with you again."

Violet smiled back at her. "As much as I hate to admit it, I'm glad to be back fighting with you." Then the smile faded a little. "I heard what happened in Houston," she said, "and it's got David spooked. Did he tell you anything?"

"Vi, I haven't talked to him much since we got back from New York. He was already pissed because someone tried to kill him during the UN/Utopia hack, now you got this stuff in Houston-"

"Whoa…wait, hold on," Violet said, holding up hand, "slow down. I've been out of the loop for the last week. UN/Utopia hack? New York?"

"Oh shit, sorry Vi, I forgot that you were…um…indisposed."

"Zoe, I was shot and in a coma, I think 'indisposed' is an understatement. Just give me the quick version."

"Um…okay…quick version. We caught the guy who shot you, turned him over to NSA, Utopia pulled some jurisdictional bullshit to take him from the NSA, David got mad and we all did a massive hack that revealed several Utopia covert operatives, some nova with abilities similar to David's tried to kill him which ended up with him being in a coma and hospitalized, but he got better and is now trying to track the bitch tried to kill him."

Violet blinked a couple times as she tried to process that entire sentence. "Okay," she said, nodding her head. "I did ask for the quick version and you gave me the quick version. What was the New York trip for?"

Zoe shrugged. "Oh, that was just him walking into Utopia's front yard and letting them know that they failed."

"That's pretty much it." Both of them turned around to see David standing there.

"David," Zoe said, jumping out of her chair and running over to hug him. "Are you okay? You haven't said much, I was worried, and-" She stopped when David put a finger to her lips.

"Zoe, I'm fine," he said. "I've been trying to figure out what to do next after all that's happened this last week." He then looked over at Violet who got up out of her chair. "I see that Saunders' treatment worked," he said.

"From what I've heard," Violet countered, "my family didn't agree to it."

"They didn't. And before you ask, I'm not the one who shot you up. I was still trying to convince your family to go along with it. Bridgette acted on her own, you have a problem with that, you take it up with her." Then his expression softened a little. "I will say this though; it is good to see you up and about."

"I'm still trying to figure out what's going on," Violet admitted. "This is the first lucid day I've had since I got shot."

"Yeah, well, welcome back to the land of the living and chaotic," David replied. "Listen, I need a favor from you. I need you to talk to your parents, I'm kind of persona-non-grata as far their concerned."

"Well, given what's happened the last week, I can see why they might be pissed."

"Yeah, well, they're going to be more pissed," David said grimly. "I want them here when I call Dicker up and arrange a meeting." He then looked at the other group sitting in a corner watching the local news on the flat-screen. "Hey, Damon," he called out.

Damon Best looked up. "Yeah?"

"Tell your uncle congratulations and that I'll be wanting a meeting with him." David paused for a moment as he remembered something. "And contact your boss. Tell Penny that she should be in on this too since it kind of involves her and some of the old guard."

A puzzled expression crossed Damon's face. "Okay," he finally said, "anything I should know?"

"I'm not sure yet," David replied. "I want some answers and I think Ms. Sefton might be able to answer them for me."

"David, what's going on?" Zoe asked.

David turned and looked at both Zoe and Violet for a moment before he answered; it was obvious he was deciding something. A moment later he, he made the decision. "Violet, you made me promise last month that there would be no secrets. Zoe, you know there is very little I kept from you, but I want you to contact your parents inform them that there is going to be a meeting with Dicker."

"Why?"

David's serious expression in response to her question caught Violet by surprised. She had seen several sides to him in the last few months; the funny smart-ass, the intelligent charismatic CEO, the arrogant punk, and the calm and calculating mastermind. However, this time, she saw a cold rage in his eyes. He was clearly pissed at someone and Violet got the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't Utopia he was mad at.

"I want answers, Vi," he finally said. "And I think, because your family and Zoe's are involved, we all deserve to hear them. Dicker's been holding out on all of us and I want to know why."


	43. A Lull and Loose Ends

Disclaimer: Incredibles, owned by Brad Bird and Pixar. Aberrant, owned by White Wolf (but discarded and ignored).

Author's Notes: Okay, this is kind of a "slow" chapter so we can take a breather after what happened the last few chapters. Trust me, some more crazy shit is coming. Also, just to warn you, you're going to see David's dark side again. I know some of you might think of him as a hero, but remember, he never saw himself as one. Just warning you. As usual, I also want to thank everyone for reading this fic. Normally, I'd go through the list of usual suspects, but I'm too tired right now and you all know who you are.

* * *

_"In what had been a tightly contested race until a couple days ago, the mayoral election race is finally over. With all precincts reporting in, it has been confirmed that City Councilman Lucius Best has won the election over incumbent Oliver Sansweet. Until two days ago, Sansweet held a slight advantage, but Best managed to come out on top. A few hours ago, Oliver Sansweet had this to say to his supporters."_

_{Cut to a clip of Oliver Sansweet's concession speech}_

_Sansweet: "We had a good run, we fought a good fight, but…the people have spoken and have chosen to go a different path than what we had to offer them. I thank you for your support, but this is not a sad event. We continue to move forward. Since I will no longer be mayor, I will focus other ways to help our cause and help us reach our goal. After all, I we do have congressional elections coming up in two years…"_

_{End clip}_

_"In contrast to the somewhat somber mood of the Sansweet camp, the Best campaign headquarters was much more celebratory."_

_{Cut to a clip of Lucius Best's victory speech…loud music can be heard in the background along with people cheering}_

_Lucius Best: "Today, everything changes. We saw a lot of change in the last six months when new businesses showed up and started to pump life back into some of the 'forgotten' parts of the city. Today, you all went out and sent a message to the current regime, telling them 'Hey, you screwed us over and we're not taking it anymore'. Today, everyone in this city gets a fair shot. No back-room deals, no forced regulations, and no more ostracizing of those who don't agree with being told what do by some outside force funneling money to a city government to push their agenda. Now I know this may sound a little cocky and arrogant to say this, but I think I speak for all the normal people when I say to my opponent: 'Don't let the door hit your ass too hard on the way out and I will make sure you get prosecuted to the fullest if you try to help yourself to a 'parting gift' from the city coffers'."_

_{End clip}_

_"Needless to say, this has been a brutal campaign…"_

-KMET Local News, Channel 2

* * *

_"It's a simple truth and a very old one: Nature abhors a vacuum. Until recently, Project Utopia had a foothold in the American government by backing certain politicians who were willing to promote their agenda. That disappeared the moment Houston happened and a lot of incumbent pro-Utopia politicians running for re-election found themselves losing their jobs while those running for office ended up getting buried at the ballot box. Most of those were Democrats and a few 'moderate' Republicans. Libertarians and Conservative Republican candidates dominated the election and you can bet the remaining pro-Utopia politicians in office are ducking for cover and praying they can keep their jobs in the 2008 elections._

_"To say that this changes everything is an understatement. And, like I said earlier, Nature abhors a vacuum. With Utopia's influence taking a hit in American politics, one doesn't have to be a political science major to see things shifting and that some assholes in office are scrambling to consolidate their new found power and influence before they can inflict it on the rest of us._

_"I'm not saying this is a bad thing, because we know that Utopia's been doing some covert shit behind everyone's back and I do applaud the fact that their influence has been curbed. But then I look at some of those people who stand to gain something from this year's election results and I'm not lying to you when I say that having someone like Senator Arlen Kinsey from Texas get more power in the Senate scares the shit out of me._

_"The pendulum went too far one way, people. Now it's swinging the other direction and, I have to tell you, I'm really worried about the kind of people who are taking over the government this coming January._

_"After all, as the old saying goes, 'Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know'…."_

-Henry "The Duke" Rollo, "The Duke Rollo Show"

* * *

_"Okay, so let me get this straight. Because of an accident in Houston, all of America is now turning against Utopia? I don't buy that for a moment. I think there's some right-wing conspiracy here and they've duped the American voter into supporting them. Then again, most of these people aren't capable of making an informed and enlightened decision…I'm sorry to say it, most of them are stupid. That's right, I'll say it...a lot of Americans are stupid."_

-Chris Matthews, MSNBC

* * *

_"Y'know, I think Flynn might be right about Chris Matthews. The man is not only incapable of controlling his bodily functions, he is now going senile. Oh wait, this is MSNBC...they're all senile. As opposed to FOX...who aren't senile, they're just batshit insane."_

-Unknown Poster, H-Cove

* * *

**_8 November 2006_**

**_SST Building_**

**_0600 Hrs_**

Violet woke up, eyes snapping open the moment her brain regained consciousness. Within two seconds, she was completely aware of her surroundings. She was in her residential suite/office at the SST building instead of her own apartment. She could hear the faint ticking of the clock mounted on the wall of the small bedroom she was in and could feel the faint hint of air current as the building's ventilation system quietly pushed the air around.

_That's weird, _she thought as she got up and headed to the bathroom, _I never noticed this kind of stuff before._

Five minutes later, she was washing her hands when she happened to look in the mirror and suddenly stopped at the reflection that greeted her.

_What...the...hell?_

Violet never really cared too much about her looks. As long as she looked presentable and cleaned up nicely, that was okay with her. She never thought of herself as uber-attractive or anything special...just more or less the typical "girl next door look" and she was okay with that. The only thing she really cared about was staying in shape, but that kind of went with being a super, even if she was only semi-active these days. However, this was the first time she noticed some definite changes.

She wasn't exactly curvier than before, but she noticed her body was more finely toned...as if she had hit the gym and was in training for some sporting event in the last few weeks. But what got her attention was the eyes. Her eyes were now more of a cobalt-blue color and she could have sworn they glowed slightly. To confirm this suspicion, she turned the light off in the bathroom to see the faint silvery-blue orbs reflecting off the mirror.

_Ooookay,_ she thought as she turned the light back on, _that's a little weird...no, scratch that...that's way weird. I think I better get out and clear my head a little._

She went back into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweats and some running shoes. A quick look at the clock told her it was about quarter after six.

_Most of the complex is still inactive except for David who is probably on his run. Sneaking out shouldn't be too much of a problem._

Ten minutes later, she was five blocks away, running down Mercer Street, heading towards the "Old Town" district. When she cut down an alley, she impulsively jumped up and grabbed at a utility ladder built into the side of one building. She hadn't even processed the fact that she had jumped about eight feet in the air and her arms managed to support her body weight as she used them to clamber up the first few rungs before her legs were able to get a foothold. It wasn't until she reached the rooftop and realized what she had done and that she wasn't even winded from it.

* * *

_**Metroville Police Department**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Jean-Paul Renard smiled as he stood on top off the cliff and looked down at the quiet lagoon sixty feet below. He curled his toes around the edge of the cliff and spread his arms out, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the simultaneous sensation of the wind and sunlight hitting his face. Then, with perfect execution, he jumped off the cliff, executing a flip before breaking into a swan dive.

Then, just as he was about to hit the water, a giant great white shark leapt out of the lagoon and said, "Yo, Renard, wake up!"

"Huh?" Jean's eyes opened as he returned back to reality. Then he turned his head and saw the now familiar face of Detective Daniel O'Reilly staring at him through the bars of his cell and holding cup of coffee. "Oh crap…this isn't Hawaii?"

O'Reilly shook his head and laughed. "Man, you really were out of it. Where were you this time?"

Jean got out of his bed and stumbled up to the bars to take the offered cup of coffee. "Hawaii," he replied before he took a sip. "Cliff diving…damn, this is a good brew, where'd you get it?"

"A place called The Mad Beanery," O'Reilly said, "recently opened up a couple weeks ago. I tried to go there a couple times, but the 'pink rush' kept hitting the place before I got there and I would have to wait for them to roast up a new batch of beans for brewing."

"The 'pink rush'?"

"Yeah. Pink haired nova, works for David Flynn's company, can't remember her name…but she's a speedster."

"Oh," Jean groaned, remembering his last encounter with the pink haired speedster, "Zoe Kilmarten."

"You know her?"

"Sort of," Jean admitted. "Let's just say we met and leave it at that."

"I see." O'Reilly then shrugged and then handed Jean a large paper bag. "Well, finish your coffee, you got a busy day."

"What's this?" Jean asked as he took the bag.

"Jeans, t-shirt, and shoes, stuff you're going to need when we go."

"Go? Go where?"

"To meet your lawyer."

"What?" Jean shook his head. "I don't remember asking for a lawyer."

"You didn't, but this guy shows up out of nowhere and says he's here on your behalf."

"Okay, is this a joke or something?" Jean asked. "Did Councilman Best put you up to this?"

"No joke, Renard. Now hurry up and get dressed. I got a busy day and I don't plan on spending it babysitting you."

Twenty minutes later, Jean found himself being led to an interrogation room where his lawyer was supposedly waiting. "Look, I thought I had a deal with Best about this," he said, "and I was informed you guys were cool with it."

"We were, until this high priced bastard showed up."

"Okay, what high-priced bastard are you…" Jean's voice died off when he stepped into the interrogation room and saw who was waiting for them.

Though the man was dressed up and acted like a snobby attorney from some high-priced law-firm, Jean easily recognized the brown haired man wearing glasses and acting like he was dealing with a piece of filth.

_But that didn't stop you from hitting me in the face, knocking me out cold, and implanting an explosive device in my head before you dumped me in this town._

"Mr. Renard," the man said, extending his hand, "my name is D.C. Howe and I've been hired by our mutual employer to represent you."

Jean reluctantly shook the other man's hand, because he was inclined to punch the bastard out instead. "So I heard," Jean replied. "I was under the impression our 'mutual' employer was a cowardly little shit who hid from his employees when he screwed them over."

Without missing a beat, the man calling himself D.C. Howe merely chuckled and shook his head. "Now, now, Mr. Renard," he said, "I can assure you that such language is not necessary." Then, for a moment, the snobby lawyer façade disappeared and the man's grin took a slight sinister tone. "Or tolerated," he added. Then he looked over at Detective O'Reilly. "That will be all, Detective. I have some private matters I wish to discuss with my client."

Jean had to give Detective O'Reilly credit. The man was no fool and had picked up right away that Jean did not care much for his "lawyer". He gave Jean a questioning look as if to say, 'Are you sure about this?'

Jean merely shrugged and nodded. "You heard the man, Detective," he said. "My employer's little whipping boy wishes to scold me and you aren't allowed to be here."

O'Reilly managed to keep a straight face, though the hint of a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'll be outside then," he said. He then closed the door to the room, leaving Jean alone with "Mr. Howe".

"D.C. Howe?" Jean asked as he stood as far away as he could away from the table Howe was sitting at. "Do people actually fall for that?"

The other man grinned and shrugged. "Renard, you'd be surprised how ignorant most people are, especially in this world. He then gestured at the empty chair on the other side of the table. "Please, sit down and we can get you out of this little mess."

"No thanks," Jean replied, "I think I'll be fine over here because I'm doing my best to resist the urge to beat the shit out of you and break every major bone in your body to pay you back for the trouble you've caused me."

"You were ordered to keep a low profile."

"And I did keep a low profile! I was just minding my own business, cruising town on my motorcycle, planning to stop at a bank to physically confirm the accounts. I stopped at Starbuck's first, got myself a mocha, then went to the bank and then…that's when the shit hit the fan."

Howe sat back in his chair for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face as he studied some papers he had set out in front of him and absentmindedly twirled a pen in hand. "I see," he finally said. "And you expect me to believe that you got caught up in some random robbery?"

"Random robbery," Jean snorted in disgust. "There was nothing random about it. Those bastards weren't there for the money; the whole robbery/hostage thing was a cover for what they were really after. I managed to defuse the one bomb they had planned on using to implode the whole building to cover their escape through the city sewers and subway systems."

"Ah, yes," Howe said, leaning forward and thumbing through the file, "your little battle with Legion-22 and her crew and the death of the cop-killer nova known as Gator." He smiled again. "Somehow, I don't think that's keeping a low profile."

"Hey, it's not like I intended to do that. After being detained by the local PD, I figured I'd bide my time, escape, and try to get in contact with you. Then this Brian Paladino bastard gets caught trying to take a shot at David Flynn, the guy who YOU ordered me to look after by the way, and I suddenly learn I was going to be taken by Utopia to their little 'secret', please not the air-quotes around the word 'secret', prison in Bahrain. Given the fact that you put that little bomb in my head and that I like living, I figured I'd make my escape, kill Paladino in the process, and then go deep."

"But it didn't turn out that way, did it?"

"No, instead, that bitch...what'shername...Legion-22 and her crazy decomposing girlfriend show up along with three unknown novas and slaughter the Utopia crew and then try to kill us. Well, at least Legion and her partner did...Paladino and I didn't find out about the other three novas until we killed Legion and her girl."

"Then what happened?"

"Then it got ugly. I don't know who these three novas were, but they were obviously a well trained team, better than most Elites I've dealt with. If it weren't for Slapstick showing up, I doubt we would have survived."

Howe smiled at the mention of Slapstick's name. "Yes," he said, "funny how he showed up and saved your ass. Almost makes you wonder who tipped him off about your location, doesn't it?"

"You? You tipped Stick off to my location?"

"Of course, did you really think I was going to risk you being transported out of city limits and setting off that device in your head?" Howe shook his head. "No, Mr. Renard, I'm not letting you off that easy and I am not about to sacrifice you to Utopia and her masters because of bad luck on your part. However, these three unknown novas, what did they look like? What kind of powers did they have?"

"Well, they were all dressed in some sort of black light body armor and wore helmets, but they had no markings. Like I said, they acted and moved better than most Elites I've dealt with. Two men, one woman; the leader of the team was a brick, but he didn't act like your typical muscle-bound strongman. The other man was on the wiry side and had some energy projection power that I'm guessing probably shot out of his eyes, I'm willing to bet that his helmet's visor was specially designed to allow and refract the energy he shot out."

"And the woman?"

Jean managed to suppress a shudder. "Gravity control and manipulation," he said. "That alone makes her bad news. Y'know, I've met some cold and psychotic people in my time, but this crew," he shook his head, "these bastards were not only cold and professional in how they took us out, they were enjoying every moment of it."

"And you didn't get a good look at them?"

"Actually," Jean hesitated for a moment, "I did get a look at the big guy when I damaged his helmet."

"And?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

There was a malicious gleam in Howe's eyes. "Let me guess," he said, "he didn't happen to look like a younger version of a still alive, but semi-tired, hero by chance, did he?"

Jean's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know who they are, don't you?"

"Who they are, no, I do not. Now, what they are, I do know." Howe's smile faded a little. "Make no mistake, Renard, you are in a much bigger game than you're used to playing."

"Wow, gee, no shit," Jean chuckled bitterly. "I think I figured that out a long time ago and, last time I checked, I don't remember wanting to play."

"But you're well suited for the game, Renard," Howe replied. "Most nova Elites, beings like Pursuer, Sarge-In-Charge, Lance Striker, and even Totentanz…they are considered the elite of the Elites." He shook his head. "To the league I run with, all those people and many other Elites are just glorified pawns. However, you, Slapstick, and a couple others…you're more than that. You're the wild cards, that unstable element that will, when required, adapt to the sudden changes in a situation and aren't predictable in their response. To some of those who…disagree with me…you are seen as a threat to their long term goals."

Jean looked at the man for a moment and then started to laugh. "Okay," he said, "you can quit being cryptic and mysterious. Do you really expect me to believe that there is some sort of unseen shadowy cabal that is playing a glorified game of Chess with people around the world? Dude…seriously…this Illuminati bullshit went out of style in the nineties."

"That's the funny thing about people like me, Mr. Renard. We can operate openly because the public has been so inundated with the idea in popular media, that people now disregard such a concept as fiction or some crackpot conspiracy theory. After all, they've read books and watched movies and television shows that show so many variations of the same theme...it would be ludicrous that such an obvious conspiracy could operate in the real world because they believe they would see such a thing, not even realizing that they are being manipulated into believing that."

"Yeah, but it's too damn obvious," Renard laughed. "I mean, even now, people can see Utopia and those backing it for what they are." Then his laughter died when he saw the malicious grin on Howe's face return. "What?"

"Then if it's so obvious that they're the ones manipulating people behind the scenes, wouldn't that make one wonder that there might be something controlling the so-called 'puppet-masters'?" Howe then shook his head again. "But never mind that; let's work on your current predicament. First off, I understand you brokered a deal with the Mayor-elect of this town as well as the police commissioner."

"It's not like I have a choice," Jean said.

Howe opened up another file folder, grabbed a piece of paper, and handed it to Jean. "No, you don't," he said, "especially when it comes to this."

"What's this?"

"That, Jean-Paul Renard, is your one and only 'Get Out of Jail Free' card."

Jean read the paper, his eyes widening as he realized what he was looking at. "What…the…hell," managed to say before looking back up at Howe. "You're joking, right?"

"Not at all," Howe replied. "This document clearly states that you were acting under orders from The Directive. As you can see, this was clearly authorized by one Director Richard Dicker of the NSA."

"The Directive?" Jean couldn't believe it. "You expect me to believe that you're working for The Directive? And how the hell did you get NSA Director Dicker to sign off on it?"

"No, I work with The Directive," Howe clarified. "Believe me, there's a difference. I had to call a favor with Dicker, but I got the sneaking suspicion he had already cut a deal with someone else about you. However, my favor trumps his deal with the previous party."

"So what happens now?" Jean asked as he watched the other man gather the rest of the papers and put them back in his briefcase. "I just wave that magic piece of paper and I'm out of here?"

"Pretty much," Howe said, closing his briefcase and getting up out of his chair. He then walked over and opened the door to the outer office where Detective O'Reilly was waiting for them. "We're finished, Detective," he said. "You will be releasing my client," he reached over, took the paper from Jean, and handed it to the detective, "within the next few minutes."

O'Reilly took a moment to read the paper and then looked over at Jean and his lawyer. "Seriously," he said, "this is on the level?"

"Feel free to ask around, Detective," Howe said, smirking at the man. "Everything is legal and binding."

"Hey, don't look at me," Jean said, shaking his head as O'Reilly glared at them.

"What about the deal Renard agreed to?"

Howe paused to consider it for a moment. "Well," he replied, "that paper exonerates Renard of his dealings the group that tried to rob the bank. However, what he does the moment he walks out of here is none of my concern." He then turned to look at Jean. "You are very fortunate, Mr. Renard, that our mutual employer thinks highly of you. If it were me, I would leave you to rot."

Jean nodded as he saw "Howe" slip back into his arrogant lawyer persona. "I understand," he said. "But you tell your employer that, some day, the score between us will be even and, when that happens, we're going to have a few choice words."

"I'll be sure to tell him that," Howe smirked. "But you'll find that he's much more formidable than you think he is."

"He's not that formidable when he hides behind worms like you."

For a moment, Howe flinched, his façade briefly dropping away before sliding back into place. "I would very much like to see that day when you two truly do meet, Renard." He then looked back to O'Reilly. "Good day, Detective. I trust you to process and release my client as ordered. In the meantime, I have real business to attend to."

Jean and O'Reilly watched the man walk away, but Jean waited until the man had truly exited the office before he shook his head. "Asshole," he said under his breath.

O'Reilly looked at him in confusion. "Okay, maybe I missed a beat here," he said, "but can you tell my why you seem pissed off at the fact some high priced lawyer showed up and saved your ass?"

"Let me put it this way, O'Reilly, I cut a deal with your soon-to-be mayor and I just had the equivalent of the devil walk in and say, 'Oh, sorry, I bought your soul out from underneath you without you knowing about it, so this other deal is null and void'."

"Ouch," O'Reilly winced. "Now that does suck. 'Damned if you do, damned if you don't' sort of thing?"

"Yeah," Jean replied.

"You do realize that Best is going to be pissed about this, right?"

Jean smiled at him. "Not really," he said. "Like my 'lawyer' said, you have to process and release me, but he has no concern with what happens the moment I walk out of here."

O'Reilly returned the grin as he realized what Jean was saying. "You're still going to keep the deal with Best, aren't you?"

"Might as well," Jean said. "As you said: I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't." Then his grin got bigger. "Since I'm damned anyway, let's see how badly I can fuck things up for my so called 'employer'."

* * *

_**Old Town District**_

_**Metroville, California**_

Violet resisted the urge to laugh as the wind blew her across her face while she jumped across the chasm between the two buildings. It was a twenty foot gap with a sixty foot drop to the ground and she wasn't afraid as she made that running leap. When she landed on the top of the other building, she rolled with the landing, shedding the momentum as she rolled back on to her feet and continued to run. She checked her pedometer and was shocked when she realized that she had just run ten miles and was only just starting to break a sweat. A quick glance at her watch informed her that she had been running straight for forty-five minutes.

_That can't be right,_ she thought, _I've been averaging less than five minutes a mile?_

She stopped and slowly walked to the edge of the rooftop, looking out at the bay and enjoying the view. She hadn't planned on running all the way from south end of town to the northern part of the waterfront district. Then again, she really wasn't aware of where she was until she stopped to look around.

_Whatever Bridgette shot me up with is responsible for this. I wonder what other surprises or nasty side-effects are waiting for me._

She shuddered at that thought as she remembered some of the old cheesy science fiction shows she had seen on television once before. For a moment, she was half-expecting to see Rod Sterling from the Twilight Zone show up and start talking to an invisible audience or…even worse…hearing that creepy gravelly voice of the narrator from that other old show, The Outer Limits.

Then the horrifying realization hit her.

_Hold on…given the world we live in today, this already qualifies for that level of weird. Almost makes me wonder if were slated to have one of those usual "doom and gloom" endings that always happened on those shows._

She involuntarily shuddered and pushed that thought away.

_No, the world is more messed up than that. Great…now there's a cheerful thought._

"Okay, now this is different," she heard someone say behind her. "Normally, you're trying to follow me."

Violet allowed herself a tiny smile as she recognized the voice and the fact the person sounded a little winded and out of breath. "Hello, David," she said, not bothering to turn around, "I was wondering when you were going to show up." David walked up and stood next to her, pausing for a moment to take a sip from his water bottle. She glanced at him and noticed that he was sweating quite a bit from the work out. "You look out of shape," she giggled.

"So says the girl with nano-enhanced body," David fired back. He took another sip of water before he spoke again. "So tell me, is there some reason why you just decided to take off and run?"

"Not really, I just had to get out of there and get some fresh air."

"Understandable," David said as he sat down on the building ledge, "given what you've been through, I'm surprised you haven't beaten the crap out of me for everything that's happened."

"From what I've heard, my mother's been doing that a lot lately." Violet sat down next to him, lightly touching him on the shoulder, causing him to look over at her. "For what it's worth, I don't blame you for what happened to me."

"Seriously? If our positions were reversed, I would be pissed that I got shot because of something you did."

"Oh, I'm pissed about that," Violet said, her expression becoming grim for a moment before softening slightly. "I'm talking about what happened afterwards…I remember…"

"Remember what?" David asked when her voice trailed off. "What do you remember?"

"I remember you holding me when I was shot," she finally said. "I remember you begging me to stay with you and to hold on…I remember looking at your face and seeing you scared for me."

There was a silence between them for several seconds, the only sounds coming from the busy activity of the city below them while they both looked back out at the morning sky.

"I fucked up, Vi," David finally said. "I got caught up in the moment, enjoyed it, and it nearly got you killed. And to be honest, I'm not sure if I did right by you by calling the Saunders' in to help you."

"Well, let's see," Violet chuckled, "lying in a degrading comatose state and dying, or sitting here and talking to you after a morning run. I'm leaning more towards the latter than the former."

"Well, we still don't know about everything that stuff did to you, so we gotta' keep tabs on you for awhile." He held up a hand to forestall any comment from her. "Look, I know it sucks, but I wanna' be careful. I know you're going to complain about feeling like a lab-rat and being poked and prodded, but I just want to make sure there are no nasty side effects looming on the horizon, that's all."

"Actually, wasn't going to complain, I was still thinking 'coma vs. talking to you after a morning run'." Violet then grinned at him again. "I'm starting to think the coma might be better than you getting sappy on me."

"Ouch," David pretended to wince. "My ego…it's deflating…oh no." He then laughed and stood up, offering a hand to help her up. "But seriously Vi," he said as she took his hand and stood up, "you're one of the few close friends I've got."

For a moment, Violet said nothing, just staring at him. "Well, how about that," she finally said, "David Pine Flynn, heir of a dark legacy with a heart of gold…and 80s hair."

"Hey, I take offense at that-oof!" David was cut off as Violet suddenly stepped forward and hugged him.

"Just do me a favor, David," she said. "Don't ever change from being the likable bastard that you are now."

"Um…okay…" David managed to say. "Um, Violet, oxygen becoming an issue…along with some bruised ribs."

Violet released him and stepped back, but not before kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you," she said softly. Then, without warning, she smiled…and jumped off the building.

"Vi!" David screamed as he watched her fall. Then his panic suddenly vanished when he saw a sphere of purple energy form around her in mid-air, slowing her fall to the point of stopping only a few feet above the ground before dissipating, allowing Violet to drop to the ground and resume her run. "That wasn't funny!" he yelled.

Violet merely responded by waving over her shoulder as she continued down the alley before turning onto a nearby street and disappearing around a corner.

Despite himself, David had to laugh at that.

_Interesting, she wasn't able to that before without pushing herself. I'll have to talk to Saunders and let him know that it enhanced her endurance levels._

Then his smile faded as he pulled his cellphone off the armband he was wearing and dialed a number. He waited a few seconds until he heard a heavily accented voice on the other end.

"Yes?" the voice asked.

"Dimitri, call off your operation. Things have stabilized on our end." David then paused for a moment as he mentally linked to the net and authorized a bank transaction. "Five million has just been transferred to the account for your trouble."

There was a pause on the other end and David could hear the tapping of keys on a keyboard. "Confirmed," the man called Dimitri said. "Allow me to say that I am happy things turned out favorably for you."

"Careful, Dimitri," David chuckled, "you're starting to sound like you have a conscience."

"Not at all," Dimitri countered with a laugh of his own. "I prefer kills with more of a challenge. We shall release her once we're done here."

"Thank you, Dimitri," David said. "But before you go, I want to talk to her."

"Are you sure about this?" Dimitri asked. "If she can link you to this…"

"Dimitri, her brother escaped and knows what I promised to do to her if things went south. I just want to talk to her and let her know how close she came."

"Very well," Dimitri sighed, "on your own head be it."

* * *

_**Abandoned Warehouse**_

_**Prague, Czech Republic**_

Lydia Paladino looked at the large Russian man who was talking on a cell-phone to his mysterious employer while his two accomplices watched her. Between the power-inhibiting drugs they had dosed her with and the occasional beating, she was in and out of consciousness for most of the four days they had detained her. She wasn't even sure how they had tracked her down so quickly and didn't even know who had hired them to grab her. Thankfully, they hadn't sexually assaulted her, but she had heard them talk about how they planned on making her suffer for several days before she died from the torture. Part of her believed they were just trying to scare her, but the other part…the realistic part…recognized them as professionals and that whoever hired them had it out for her personally.

So, needless to say, she was curious when the man called Dimitri seemed to hesitate and then walked over to her and held the phone to her ear. "Someone wants to talk to you," he said.

Lydia debated momentarily to tell the large man to fuck off, but decided against it. At the very least, at least she would find out who was behind her kidnapping and beating. "Who is this?" she asked, trying to keep her tone as defiant as possible.

"Well, gee," laughed the man on the other end of the phone, "given the fact that your brother tried to kill me recently, I think you know damn well who I am."

Lydia felt her blood run cold when she realized who she was talking to. "Flynn," she said, her defiance now gone.

"Yeah, bitch, it's me," Flynn said. "I figured I should at least tell you why you're in the predicament you're in and how things are going to play out from here."

"How nice of you," Lydia snapped. "When my brother finds out what you've done to me-"

"Your brother is currently a fugitive on the run from Utopia after escaping. Believe me when I say I have nothing to fear from him. Besides, your brother is probably going to be looking for you and, despite my better judgment, I'm going to honor my agreement and I'm going to let you live." There was a pause for a moment before Flynn continued. "I just want you to know that things could have gone the wrong way and Dimitri and his crew would be creating a snuff film starring you and then scattering your remains over a few continents within the next week. However, things improved on my end and you will be released."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful for that?" Lydia hissed. "Grateful for the fact that you hired someone to kidnap me and possibly torture me to death? Do you expect me to let that slide because you're letting me go? I don't think so. Your father murdered mine…destroyed our family."

"And your brother shot Violet Parr in cold blood," Flynn fired back. "Or are you cool with killing innocent people just to get to me?"

Lydia suddenly felt a lump form in her throat. "Vi…Violet got shot?"

"Yeah, she took the bullet your brother meant to put through my brain. We're still trying to figure out how he missed, but it doesn't change the fact that your hatred for me nearly killed someone I cared about. Luckily, for you, Violet managed to pull through. If she hadn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation, and then BOTH of your brothers would have a real reason to kill me. And to be honest, that would suck, because that means I'd probably have to kill Greg as well as Brian and I like Greg...he actually is a bona fide hero and he's not dressing up like some spandex clown to do it. Not only that, unlike you and Brian, he was willing to give me a chance."

"If you had the guts, you'd kill me yourself instead of hiring these thugs to do it," Lydia taunted. "You're a cowardly little shit just like your father."

There was another pause at the end of the line followed by a sigh. "Wow," Flynn said, "you and Brian must share the same stupidity gene. Trying to goad me by comparing me to my father, not a good idea. If I were truly like Buddy Pine, I would order Dimitri and his buddies to start dismembering you and see how long they could keep you alive during the process; but I'm not going to. I'm actually going to keep my word and spare your life. Consider this your one and final warning; you want to come after me, that's fine. But if you target those I care about, believe me when I say that there is no place on this planet you can hide from me."

* * *

_**Metroville, California**_

David killed the connection on his phone and attached it back to his armband as he looked down at the city.

_Well,_ he thought, _both she and her brother have been warned...whatever happens is now their head._

He realized that the Paladinos might try striking at him again, but he also figured they wouldn't be stupid to attempt it too soon, especially since they now realized what he was willing to do if Violet had died. He also realized that taking that course of action probably made him no better than his father and perhaps made him worse.

_Then again, unlike Buddy Pine, I never wanted to be a hero or pretended to be one. However, since Violet survived, I didn't have to carry out my threat. However, they now know what I'm willing to do in retaliation. Hopefully, they'll be smart and realize they're better off forgetting about me and that I forget about them._

He glanced over in the direction of City Hall and couldn't help smiling as he imagined poor Oliver Sansweet crying over his failed re-election bid.

_Proof that despite the dark shit the world throws at us, there's still a silver lining in all this._

Unfortunately, he knew the moment of victory he was feeling was just that...a moment. His smile faded slightly as he contemplated the oncoming storm and wondered what kind of decisions he would be forced to make in the future.

_I dodged a bullet in regard to Violet and the Paladinos, but I will still have to deal with the fallout of the current situation. But what about the next time? There's stuff coming down the pipe and I know that everyone won't be happy with some of the decisions I might make._

Then he shuddered as the one question he tried to avoid asking himself crept into his mind.

_Do I even have the guts to make those decisions?_

What bothered him even more was that he couldn't come up with a definite answer to that question.


	44. A Lull and Loose Ends II

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant...White Wolf does. Don't own The Incredibles, Brad Bird does (and he and the Pixar crew would kill me if they saw what I did to their creation for fun). PSI, PRIMUS, and the IHA are owned by Iron Crown Enterprises. Okay, I think I covered myself on the disclamers.

Author's Notes: Nothing much to see here, folks, just a "filler" chapter and setting the stage for the next story, "WoA: Defiance and Insurrection".

* * *

"_Okay, so the election is over, and now we have ultra-right wing jackasses coming into power this January. What next, they going to turn back the clock and try to relive the 1950s or...worse yet...the Reagan years? Oh god, I hope not...maybe it's a good thing Brandi's gone. She wouldn't want to be alive to see this shit happening to this country."_

Seth Montaine, "The Seth Montaine Show", Air America

* * *

"_Though his location has yet to be revealed, it has been confirmed that Caestus Pax is being detained by PRIMUS at an undisclosed facility. Lawyers representing Project Utopia have been attempting to contact Pax, but have been denied access to the Team Tomorrow leader. A spokesman for PRIMUS did say, however, that Pax would be allowed the right to retain counsel when taken to trial..."_

N!Channel News

* * *

_**8 November 2006**_

_**Office of Senator Arlen Kinsey (R) **_

_**Washington D.C.**_

_**1600 Hrs. (EST)**_

Senator Arlen Kinsey resisted the urge to shout in triumph as he re-read the election results. With all the campaigning and dealing he had done, his plans to get the country back on track were finally coming to fruition. However, despite this moment of victory, Arlen was no fool; he knew that now was not the time to gloat because the job of restoring his country was just starting.

_But there's nothing wrong with enjoying this moment,_ he thought to himself as he lit a cigar and reclined back in the leather office chair behind his desk. _However…our work is only beginning._

He also realized that those who supported him might be horrified at the deals he made to bring the country back from the brink, but he couldn't fault them for it. After all, those people truly had no idea of what it took to keep their freedom and way of life intact. They were sheep that needed to be shepherded and protected from the evils of the world and, sometimes, some really bad things had to be done to protect them

_And sometimes, a few losses must be taken to protect the rest of the herd._.

He regretted the loss of life in Houston, but he comforted himself with the fact that it was Caestus Pax and Project Utopia who were ultimately to blame for what happened…at least that was how the world saw it. Arlen had no idea how Micah Piper and his people pulled it off and, honestly, he didn't want to know.

_What matters are results and that they are in our favor. The American people see Utopia as a threat to their way of life and, thanks to Caestus Pax, to their lives in general. Some are starting to see novas for the threats they truly are. Now we must capitalize on this._

He tapped a couple keys on the keyboard to his computer and his monitor flashed to a newsfeed of one of his primary targets.

_However, unlike Utopia, this enemy will be harder to vilify especially since he and his little band of outcasts are seen as defiant heroes who stood against Utopia._

Arlen actually liked David Pine Flynn even though the young man was a nova. After all, the kid was eighteen years old, one of the youngest CEOs in the world, and was doing his damndest to make something of himself, which was a far cry from most young adults his age. The irony of the situation amused Arlen.

_Most people his age are slackers who would prefer to spend their time getting high, playing video games, or killing each other. It's really too bad that he's not human; he would be the perfect role-model for today's youth._

He knew he had to be careful how they targeted Flynn, however. After all, Flynn had pushed the fact that his company was an American company and was all about standing up against anti-American groups like Project Utopia.

_The problem with wrapping yourself up in the flag, Flynn, is that sooner or later someone is going to strangle you with it._

His secretary's voice on the intercom broke him out of his thoughts. "Sir, the Director of PRIMUS and a Thomas Ackerman are both here to see you."

"Ah, thank you, Dolores," Arlen replied as he slowly stood up in preparation to greet his guests. "Send them both in."

A few seconds later, the door to his office and two men entered. Robert Kaufman, Director of PRIMUS, though he was not wearing his "Golden Avenger" armor, still presented an imposing and almost intimidating figure even though he was wearing a simple three piece suit. His chiseled physique and intense expression on his face made him easily recognizable even without the armored mask he sometimes wore. "Senator," he said, nodding in respect to Arlen.

In quiet contrast, Kaufman's companion, while not a powerfully built man, was a slender, but wiry man who had his long black hair pulled back into a pony-tail. His suit was obviously custom tailored and, while he was no powerhouse like Kaufman, his movements were smooth and fluid. "Senator," William Ackerman also said as shook the Senator's hand.

"Gentlemen," Arlen said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat." The two men sat down as did Arlen. "I'd offer both of you something to drink, but I know that you, Director Kaufman, are officially on duty and you, Mr. Ackerman, tend to avoid alcohol as well."

"Oh, I don't avoid it completely," William Ackerman said, giving Arlen a toothy grin. "While the Institute of Human Advancement does promote a Spartan diet of sorts, I do occasionally indulge in a glass of wine when the vintage is good and there is good cause to celebrate."

"Then you must have been celebrating a lot last night," Kaufman chuckled.

"Not really, Director Kaufman," Ackerman replied. "Yes, I did have a glass of wine and enjoyed the fact that some of our enemies will be removed from the battlefield this coming January, but they have not been dealt with on a permanent basis and they could still do a lot of damage to our plans before then." He then looked back at the Senator. "However, I am curious as to why you summoned both the Director of PRIMUS and myself to see you at the same time." He glanced back over at Kaufman. "No offense, Director, but I was under the impression that you don't like working closely with 'civilian activists' as myself and my organization."

"Were your predecessor still in charge, that would be true," Kaufman said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I must admit your past as a former Navy Seal and then a former member of the Foreign Legion intrigues me. I am also impressed with how you have changed the IHA from a collection of loose activist networks into a cohesive and politically powerful organization in less than a year."

"Well, unlike the Church of Michael, we prefer to offer a more friendly face to the public," Ackerman said. Though he was still smiling, there was a hint of disgust when he mentioned the Michaelite movement. "Our group tends to have a lot of credibility if we don't look like scruffy riff-raff from the streets."

"Most of those 'riff-raff' are decent red-blooded Americans," Kaufman countered. "They're trying to stand up for what they believe in."

"Please," Ackerman chuckled, "spare me the overly romanticized concept of uber-patriotism, okay? Yeah, I'm sure some of them believe that, but let's not fool ourselves here. This is all about power and control…nothing more, nothing less. Utopia, and those behind it, came very close to becoming the one-world ruling body they were aiming to be. I'll admit, it's because of those yahoos in the Michaelites that Utopia is suffered a black eye, but mark my words, they will come back from this and it's going to take more than a bunch of militia wannabe' hicks and a band of delusional useful idiots to fight them off and keep the power we've attained."

"Now, that's a rotten thing to say," said a new voice that caused Ackerman and Kaufman to turn around in their seats and Kinsey to look up and see a man with red short-cropped hair standing in the doorway of his office. He stood about six feet tall and wore a dark blue three-piece suit.

"Who are you?" Kinsey demanded. "And what happened to Dolores?"

The red-haired man took a couple steps in the office and closed the door. "Dolores is currently taking a nap on the couch outside," he said. "As for my name…well…if Micah hasn't told you by now, I'm Gabriel."

"You," Kaufman said, his eyes widening in recognition, "you're the man I talked to a few days ago."

Gabriel nodded and extended his hand. "Yes, Director Kaufman," he replied, "that was me."

"You're Gabriel?" Arlen asked. "Forgive me, but I wasn't expecting someone like you to be…"

"To be what, well groomed, eloquent, and actually willing to meet you face to face?"

"Actually, I'm thinking along the lines of arrogant, self-serving, and showboating," Ackerman quipped.

Gabriel turned to look at Ackerman and, for a moment, Arlen thought he saw a malicious gleam in Gabriel's eyes as he and Ackerman stared and sized each other up. "Well, in my defense," Gabriel said, "I have killed two nova super-teams and pushed Project Utopia's front man over the edge, which caused him to flash fry a couple thousand innocent people. So, tell me, Mr. Ackerman, what have you and the rest of your pretty-boy network done to help the cause?"

"Gentlemen, can we spare the cock-swinging festival for another time?" Kinsey asked, cutting off Ackerman before he could respond to Gabriel's comment. "I must admit, Mr. Gabriel, that I am surprised to see you here. Piper usually arranges the meetings between me and your movement."

"Yes," Gabriel nodded, "I am well aware of that. However, I felt that it would be better to take a private jet here and personally talk to you since I really don't trust electronic communications these days."

"You seemed to have no problem with that when you contacted me," Kaufman said.

"Yes, but as you also know, I had to bounce that communication around several satellites and relay stations to cover my tracks and it was for a very short time." Gabriel then looked back to Arlen. "Besides, Senator, I felt it better if I told you this personally. No offense to Director Kaufman here, but I figure it would be best if I told you directly instead of him passing the message to you. It's not that I don't trust him, but I'll be honest and admit I don't trust you to listen to the message."

"And are you going to get around telling us this message or are you still going for the dramatic build-up?" Ackerman quipped.

"Y'know," Gabriel said as he knelt down to where Ackerman was sitting, "you remind me of someone I used to work with until fairly recently…some guy named Horton."

"Please," Ackerman scoffed, "don't even think of comparing me to that delusional jarhead."

"Fair enough," Gabriel said with a predatory grin on his face. "It's just that there are similarities and differences between the two of you. The similarity is that you both disrespected me and treated me as a joke. The difference between the two of you: he's dead and you're currently alive. So choose your next words carefully, my flamboyant pony-tailed friend, because I would really hate to see the Institute of Humanity lose such a valuable leader." He then stood back up and returned his attention to Arlen. "As for my message, Senator Kinsey…it's a simple one: David Pine Flynn."

"What about him?" Kinsey asked, though he noted Kaufman's suddenly wary expression when Gabriel mentioned the young man's name.

"I heard that you intend to target him, Senator. That's understandable and even very admirable given the fact that the little bastard is probably expecting you and perhaps the Director of PRIMUS here to mount an offensive against him." Gabriel's expression suddenly became serious. "It's very simple, you stay away from him. The little shit is mine."

"And if I don't?"

The malicious gleam returned to Gabriel's eyes, along with his predatory grin. "Senator," he said casually, "I have killed two super-teams and devastated a major metropolitan city within a couple months and with very minimal planning. Do you really think you, a United States Senator who is, at best, a mid-level powerbroker, really poses a challenge to me?" He paused for a moment, not bothering to turn around. "Director Kaufman, before you think about reaching for that trusty .45 you like to carry, I want you to know that the Senator would be dead before you could point it at me and I am protected enough from whatever attack you make. I am not here to kill any of you; I only want you to stay away from David Flynn."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is he to you?" Ackerman asked, his curiosity replacing his disdain for this newcomer. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it sounds personal."

"Oh," Gabriel said, nodding as he started to back away from the group and towards the door, "it's very personal. But believe me when I say that none of you stand a chance against him." He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny thumb-drive. He held it in his hand and examined it for a moment. "However," he said as he suddenly tossed the tiny device to Ackerman who deftly caught it, "never let it be said that I'm not generous."

"What's this?" Ackerman asked, holding up the thumb-drive to get a closer look at it.

"Information is power, Mr. Ackerman," Gabriel replied. "While I may not think too highly of you personally, you are a competent man and I am certain that you will make use of what information is on that drive."

"What is it?" Arlen asked.

"For the sake of plausible deniability, Senator, it's better that you don't know. However, let's just say that our little attack on the Utopia complex got us some information. Mr. Ackerman, think of this as just a teaser of what we can offer you. When Utopia updates their registry, we will know about it…as will you."

Ackerman's eyes suddenly widened in realization at what he was holding. "Registry," he repeated, "you mean to tell me that…"

"Yes," Gabriel replied. "we have access to the location and personal information of every nova that is registered or will register with Project Utopia. I assume you and your institute will put that to good use."

"Okay," Ackerman chuckled, "perhaps I may have rushed to judgment on you. I still think you're an arrogant showman, but you are far more than what you appear to be. I just want to know why you're wasting your time with the Michaelites."

"Because our personalities would clash too much if I were to join your movement," Gabriel replied. Then his grin returned. "Besides, 'delusional useful idiots' are very useful, are they not?" He then gave the three of them a mock salute before opening the door. "Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure." A couple seconds later, the door closed behind him, leaving Arlen alone with his two guests.

"Well," Arlen finally said, "that was interesting. So that is the 'mysterious' Gabriel." He then noticed the thoughtful look on Kaufman's face. "Is something wrong, Robert?"

Kaufman shook his head after a moment of contemplation. "No, Senator," he replied. "It's just that…there is something about that man that looked very familiar."

* * *

**_8 November 2006_**

**_Syndrome Software & Technologies_**

**_Metroville,California_**

**_1200 Hrs. (PST)_**

David leaned back into the leather chair behind his desk and paid half-hearted attention to the wall mounted flat-screen television as he mentally flipped through multiple channels to see the reaction of various media outlets around the world. He paused for a few seconds on MSNBC when he saw Chris Matthews doing some commentary for another loser on that network.

"People are losing their minds," Matthews said and David was certain he could see some spittle flying as the old geezer spoke. "Utopia's done a lot of great good for the world and America as a whole. It's those damn right-wingers and opportunistic bastards with money that are manipulating people into thinking all the progress Utopia has made is bad."

"To be fair, Chris," said the host of the show, "David Flynn provided some damning evidence about Utopia and their own manipulations when it came to various countries that didn't fully support it."

"That is merely hearsay," Matthews countered, giving a dismissive gesture with his hand. "And do you truly think someone like David PINE Flynn, son of a weapons designer and mass murderer is truly trustworthy?"

David responded to Matthews' comment with a dismissive gesture of his middle finger and changing the channel.

_Some people are truly ignorant and set in their ways, _David thought with a sigh. He noticed that Chris Matthews had been grouchier lately on the air, but he really couldn't blame the man. _After all…having two truckloads of Depends being delivered to your home and your place of employment must have been really embarrassing._

David smiled at that thought, remembering Chris Matthews' reaction being caught on camera and the subsequent profanity laced tirade it caused…which was immediately loaded up on Youtube shortly thereafter.

_This guy's almost as bad as Brandi Miller…almost. I'd love to deal with him the way I dealt with that bitch, but he really hasn't done anything bad other than spew a bunch of hateful shit out of his mouth and that's not a crime._

He continued to flip through channels, pausing briefly on N!Channel to see how things were going with that pro-Utopia biased network.

"Metroville, California is not the only formerly Utopia friendly bastion that has turned against the organization with the election of a new mayor and city officials. The city of Detroit, Michigan stunned the world when Daniel Riordan, a former auto-worker and union representative defeated his pro-Utopia opponent."

_Interesting…that's going to probably force Utopia to abandon its "Millennium City" restoration project. Then again, they pretty much already did that when they diverted most of their funding from Detroit in favor of rebuilding Mexico City again. It's no wonder Riordan won on the whole 'Utopia betrayal' platform._

David remembered having a conversation with Kickjak when the nova was at SST for the Halloween party. A lot of the world saw Kickjak as a former gang member who gained powers and decided to be a hero, but there was a lot more to the man than that. Yes, Kickjak showed up for the party (paid his own way to attend), but the conversation was very revealing.

"_**I'm not gonna' lie to you, Flynn. Detroit's hurtin' and Utopia's pulling out on us. Oh, they say they aren't, but it's obvious that the projects they've been workin' on are behind schedule or haven't even started yet because they're more concerned with their little crown jewel in Mexico."**_

"_**That's obvious, but why come to me with this?"**_

"_**Because I know some of the people you're workin' with, boy. They wouldn't be backing you if they didn't think you were legit. Look, I'm not good at this business bullshit, cutting deals and I'm not going to beg…but I'm gonna' point out that Detroit has a lot of potential if the right person comes along and invests in it."**_

"_**What makes you think I'm the right person?"**_

"_**Because, Mr. Flynn, you're not the poser you pretend to be. Oh sure, you play the arrogant snot to the crowd and a lot of people buy it, but they don't see that that look in your eye…that hunger…that hunter lookin' for the next challenge."**_

_Whoever sees you as merely 'a former street-thug given superpowers' has clearly underestimated you, Mr. Kincaid. Then again…we live in an age when airheaded bimbos like Paris Hilton, Kari McKeen, and the Kardashians dominate the airwaves and media, it's no surprise the world has a shallow sense of values._

David turned to look at his desk and a few three dimensional holographic representations of various abandoned factories in Detroit materialized into view.

_Hmm…you are right, Mr. Kincaid…I do see possibilities._

Three of the holographic buildings dissipated, leaving two behind.

_These two factories in particular might work…I'll have to talk to some people about it, bounce some ideas off Larry. Hmm…maybe I should talk to Damon Best as well; he may not be on my payroll but I'm sure Sefton would be more than willing to sub-contract him out to me._

A soft knock on his door brought David out of his thoughts. "Come on in," he said. Needless to say, he was surprised when the door opened and Zoe entered. Normally, Zoe just barged into his office, not bothering to knock. He also noticed the serious look on her face which, again, was not normal for her. "Zoe, is something wrong?"

The pink haired speedster pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of his desk and just stared at him silently for a few seconds.

"Zoe?" he said again.

"I was thinking," Zoe finally said.

David arched an eyebrow at her and gave her a tiny smile. "Well, we are a tech company and I think it's safe to say that a lot of thinking is required to work here." He noticed that Zoe wasn't smiling at his comment. "Oookay," he said, "and what exactly were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about our trip to New York and about what happened when we went to that restaurant and confronted Thetis and Laragione. She mentioned that you killed six agents when you were ten years old…was that true?"

For a split second, David hesitated. He dreaded this moment and knew it would eventually come, but he didn't think he'd be talking to Zoe about his past today. In that split second, he considered lying to her but he knew that she would catch it. "It was eight years ago, Zoe," he finally said. "And I was a completely different person then."

_Then again, I'm not sure if I could have called myself a "person" back then._

"Um, you were ten…what kind of person could you have possibly been?"

_Well, gee, Zoe…I was straight out of a vat, my mind fractured as the AI template tried to rebuild itself…I was pretty much an intelligent animal trying to protect itself. Um…no…I don't think that explanation will go over well._

"Zoe," David finally said, "you have to understand, my fa…Buddy Pine was one seriously fucked up guy. When I was born, I wasn't his son, I was just another 'project' for him to mold and create. I was raised in a secluded environment, pretty much just another experiment to educate and eventually unleash should I prove useful."

_Okay…not exactly a lie._

Zoe's eyes widened in horror when she realized what David was telling her. "You mean…he was trying to make you his own personal 'Mini-Me'?"

David choked at that reference; he clearly wasn't expecting that. "Okay," he managed to chuckle, "I hadn't thought of it that way, but yeah…that's pretty much it."

This time Zoe did smile a little. "That I can understand, but did you really kill those agents as Thetis claimed? I mean, I know what happened in Redfield with you and Null last year, but that's different."

"No, it isn't different," David said. "You have to understand, Zoe, I was raised in an isolated and controlled environment. My world was carefully secluded sections on that compound…even the areas when I went 'outside'…complete isolation from everyone except my educators and my guards. When the NSA found me, they locked me up in isolation as well, trying to figure out what to do with me. If it weren't for Dicker and Neil, I might have still ended up in a lab somewhere and being studied. Neil took a chance on me, tried to befriend me and get me to open up…"

David closed his eyes as the fragmented memories of that day played through his head…being at some sort of safe-house, Neil introducing him to something called a "cheeseburger", and then several figures dressed all in black storming the house.

"Aeon sent a team to retrieve me," he continued, "I guess they figured since they gave Pine financial backing, I was technically their property to be reclaimed after his death. Neil took one of them out before they took him down…he dropped his gun…an older model Glock…I think. I just picked it up, saw six figures that were trying to kill him and take me…I…I defended myself." He paused for a moment, a distant look in his eyes as he remembered that night. "Six hostiles, six shots…according to Neil, I was still holding the gun, standing over him when the NSA team got there. He had to talk me down into letting them get near him so they could take him to the hospital."

"Then what happened?"

David leaned back in his chair. "I was temporarily re-located to an NSA facility on Dicker's orders. I'm not sure why, but the old man was adamant about not turning me over to anyone. When Neil recovered a few months later, he was given one last assignment: me."

"Wait, you're telling me that Neil Flynn, your adoptive father, was an agent assigned to protect you?"

"Yeah."

"But how is that possible? I mean, I've met him and your sister…is she an agent too?"

David laughed again. "Amanda? Hell no…she is Neil's daughter. And Neil's wife, Sarah…she was probably worried at first, but backed Neil on this. Somehow…it all worked out. Sure, the first year was awkward, but we did okay…and Sarah dying from cancer a few years later really brought us together." His smile faded a little. "They may not have been my flesh and blood family, but I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world." Then he shuddered slightly. "I just hate to think what I would have turned out like had I been put in a different environment or kept in the same kind of environment I was originally raised in."

"Just one more question then," Zoe said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How much of what you just told me is true?"

"Honestly…about ninety-eight percent of it," David replied. "But if it makes you feel better, you and Null know about me more than anyone else here."

"Only ninety-eight percent?" Zoe repeated.

David shrugged and grinned at her. "I give myself a two percent margin for error."

"That two percent…is it lies or information being withheld?"

"Does it matter? Everything I told you is true. Whatever I've held back on is something I've been ordered not to reveal."

"Ordered, by whom?" Zoe asked. Then the realization hit her. "Oh…yeah…Dicker, right?"

"Yeah," David replied. "But I think that's going to change when he shows up tonight."

"Wait…hold on…Dicker's coming here? Tonight? Why?"

"Because," David sighed as he got up out of his chair and stretched out his arms, "I, like you, want some answers and we're all going to get them tonight, one way or the other."

* * *

_**[Encrypted Communication- CypherScramble protocols engaged] **_

_**Voice 1(female, slight accent): "You're taking a big chance contacting me this way."**_

_**Voice 2: "Couldn't be helped. Listen, the kid is calling a meeting, a big one. I'm not sure who all he is calling, but I do know he has enough spine to call up the NSA and demand their Director meet with them."**_

_**Voice 1: "He's actually making demands of Dicker?" *soft chuckle* "Well now, that does take some spine…he clearly didn't get that from his father."**_

_**Voice 2: "Whatever. Look, I know you hired me to look after him, but I need to know…what the hell is he?"**_

_**Voice 1: "Well, clearly, he's a powerful nova."**_

_**Voice 2: "Don't screw around with me, lady. You know where I came from and what I've been involved with. Yeah, he's a nova, but he's more powerful than someone with his abilities should be, isn't he?"**_

_**Voice 1: "Why don't you stop beating around the bush, Mr. Peters, and just ask me the question?"**_

_**Voice 2: "Is he PSI?"**_

_**Voice 1 (laughs): "Very interesting, Mr. Peters. You're still more afraid of them than you are of me…foolish, but interesting."**_

_**Voice 2: "Just because they're not around doesn't mean they, or what's left of them, are truly gone."**_

_**Voice 1: "That is a valid point and a very healthy attitude to have. However, I can assure you, Mr. Peters, that David Flynn is not connected to PSI. If anything, he would be considered a high-level threat to their plans."**_

_**Voice 2: "Would be? Is that your way of telling me that they are truly gone?"**_

_**Voice 1 (suddenly serious): "It's my way of telling you to stop looking for sea monsters, Mr. Peters. You have enough to deal with as it is. Now…you said that David is calling a meeting. When?"**_

_**Voice 2: "Tonight, and he's calling others. The Parrs…the guy who ran for mayor…"**_

_**Voice 1: "Lucius Best?"**_

_**Voice 2: "Yeah, that guy. Oh yeah...and some red-haired super-brick who runs some sort of salvaging and recovery company, Penny Sefton. Not sure who else he's calling in, but it's gotta' be something big."**_

_**Voice 1: "He's bringing Sefton in on this?" *chuckles* "Oh, this should prove amusing. Very well, Mr. Peters, I will be there in a couple hours."**_

_**Voice 2: "Wait…you're coming here?"**_

_**Voice 1: "But of course, Mr. Peters. After all, if my son is calling for a council of war, then I suppose it's only fair that I let him know what he's up against."**_

_**Voice 2: "Wait…hold on…son!"**_

_**Voice 1: "That will be all, Mr. Peters…I will see you soon."**_

_**[Link Terminated]**_

* * *

_**Warehouse District**_

_**Metroville Port**_

_**Metroville, California**_

"So this is where you hang out at?" Danny O'Reilly asked, looking around the warehouse before picking up what looked like a weapon off the table. "I'm sorry, but this is kind of a disappointment as far as 'secret lairs' go."

"Gee, I'm sorry to disappoint," Jean-Paul Renard shot back as he yanked the piton gun out of the Detective's hand. "And gimme' that…it's not a toy! And keep in mind, I only recently relocated to this 'burg and it wasn't by choice. I didn't have time to get settled in due to the whole 'bank robbery-getting arrested-going to jail-nearly getting killed' thing. And let us not forget the fact that even after my 'lawyer' got me out of that pickle, you still detained me for a couple more hours."

O'Reilly smirked at him. "Wow…do you always whine like this?"

"No, I just take it personally when Murphy/Fate/Whatever decides to make me their bitch and screw me over like they did. Had I known what was going to happen in that bank, I would have just sat on my ass in Starbucks, drank my mocha and let it happen."

The police detective looked at Jean and shook his head, a tiny mile on his face. "No," he said, "you wouldn't. You're an arrogant and self-centered bastard sometimes, Renard, but you're not the kind of bastard who will stand by and let innocent people get hurt or killed."

"Okay, thanks a lot, Detective. You really destroy my rep as an Elite, you know that?"

"And you know it's true, Renard. If you were someone like Totentanz or Pursuer, you would just shrug your shoulders and just walk away. That's why people like you…well, that and the stupid shit you do."

"Hey, I'll have you know my shit is not stupid," Jean mock-whined. "Those stunts have disclaimers and warnings on them."

O'Reilly walked over to a workbench to examine the object sitting there. "A new glider-board?"

"Yeah," Jean replied, pausing to open a nearby refrigerator. "You want a beer or something?"

"On duty, remember? But I'll take a soda if you got one." He caught a bottle of Coke that Jean tossed at him. "Thanks…so, the new glider-board? What happened to the old one?"

"The 'pink-rush' happened," Jean said as he opened his beer. "Zoe Kilmarten trashed it the last time I was here."

O'Reilly had choked on his Coke as he laughed at that. "Seriously? How did some little girl trash your rig?"

"First off, she's no little girl…she's a menace to society." Jean then took a sip of beer. "Second," he continued, "it's not exactly something I want to talk about. The only good thing that happened that day was me punching the shit out of Speed Demon."

"Wait, you punched out Speed Demon?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Oh man," O'Reilly laughed, "I would have loved to see that."

"Hey, he's a hero; I thought you cops liked heroes."

"Renard, we tolerate supers, and yeah, we may like some of them. But Speed Demon is just a punk kid with a famous family." O'Reilly didn't bother to hide the disgust in his voice. "He's a show-off and I wouldn't be surprised if he acted like that in his civilian identity. His actions have put some people in danger because he doesn't think things through."

"Unlike a ruthless and vile mercenary like me," Jean snorted.

"Yeah, well, at least you have an excuse," O'Reilly countered. "And, like I said before, you're not the kind to stand by and just let innocent people get hurt. Speed Demon will 'showboat' and risk collateral damage, not caring if it has a cost. So long as he saves the day and it gets publicized, he doesn't care."

"Damn…maybe he should join Utopia."

"I'm surprised he hasn't." Then O'Reilly smiled again. "Although, given what's happened lately, I don't think that would be a good idea on his part."

"True," Jean admitted in agreement. "I'm just curious about the backlash though, and I'm not talking about it being against Utopia."

O'Reilly's smile faded. "Tell me about it," he said. "Before I agreed to drop your sorry ass off here, I received an interesting memo that got e-mailed to the entire department. Apparently PRIMUS wants to set up some sort of 'nova threat response' protocol for all levels of law enforcement."

"That sounds rather…ominous."

"No shit. My dad told me how bad it got when the ban against supers went into effect in the early 80s. There were some ugly incidents that didn't make it into the media, but they didn't have shit like the internet and cable television was still in its infancy back then. Some supers went to ground, retired, gone to live normal lives…but there were a few that didn't. They were eventually deemed a threat by PRIMUS and…"

O'Reilly stopped in mid-sentence, causing Jean to look over at the man and see the haunted look on his face. "What happened, O'Reilly?" he asked softly.

"Do you remember a super by the name of Rampage?"

"You mean the ape-like guy who had super-strength? Yeah, I remember him…they said he died in a gunfight with unknown assailants."

The police detective shook his head. "That's not what happened," he said. "I was nine years old and I remember that day. My dad, he was just a Detective back then and he worked with a couple supers back in the day, usually Frozone and Rampage. Rampage usually did stuff for charity with the local cops…you know, visiting schools, talking to kids…pretty cool guy. When the ban went into effect, he couldn't just go into hiding because…well…he didn't exactly look human to begin with. Oh sure, he got by doing some gig here and there, but he wasn't permitted to do anything with the police department anymore. Then he made the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"About three months after the ban went into effect, crime started to spike. Criminals were realizing they could get away with shit since the supers weren't out to stop them. One crew in particular decided to hit the Metro Diamond Exchange…they stormed the place…took hostages, and killed a couple guards just to make the point that they were serious. What they didn't count on was Rampage being in the area."

"Uh-oh," Jean said, "I got a bad feeling where this is going."

"PRIMUS was there within a few minutes of Rampage showing up. They had some guys in funky armor and riot gear carrying heavy weapons. They ordered the local cops to stay away as they stormed in. My dad was telling me how they could hear gunfire and Rampage roaring…five minutes later, it was over with. Rampage and two of the robbers were dead. The official story was that the robbery team gunned him down before PRIMUS could intervene."

"But you don't believe that, do you?"

"Renard, my father and his people were ordered to issue that statement almost immediately after it happened. He didn't know what happened, and he still doesn't, but he knew bullshit when he heard it. That robbery team had some M-16 assault rifles and some flash-bangs. There's no way that could work on a super who could withstand a fifty-caliber machine gun unloading on him at point blank range."

"Okay, you got a point; that does look suspicious."

"Oh, it gets even more fucked up." O'Reilly finished off his soda set the bottle on the table next to the glider-board. "Get this, the MEs examined the bodies of two dead robbers…guess what…no gunshot wounds. One guy died from having his neck broken and the other guy died from his ribcage being crushed. There were no gunshot wounds."

"Let me guess, Rampage was the one gunned down to death."

"Yeah…and PRIMUS immediately took his body and surviving robbers into custody. A day later, the two dead members of the robbery team were taken as well." O'Reilly looked back over at Jean again. "You know, to this day, my father suspects that the Diamond Exchange was never the target, but Rampage was."

For several seconds, Jean said nothing. Instead, he was lost in thought as he remembered his own past. "You know," he finally said, "I've talked to some of the people who raised me and they've told me similar stories. You know who my father was, right?"

"Yeah, Andre Renard aka Bomb Voyage…everyone knows that."

"You remember how he died?"

"Well, they said that he was killed when a natural gas line blew, taking out a large chunk of the chateau he was living with his family…oh god…you were there?"

"Yeah," Jean said, "but spare me the sympathy, okay? I was barely a year old when it happened. I don't remember him or my mother, though the people that raised me told me stories about them." Then his expression darkened slightly. "And they had some dark conspiracy theories too. I never put much stock in them, but I can't help but wonder if there might be a bit of truth to those stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"Oh, you know…crazy global encompassing conspiracy theories and all that shit," Jean laughed humorlessly.

"Sounds to me like you don't think of them as crazy."

"Given everything that's happened in the last few weeks alone, you'll have to forgive me if I'm starting to think there's some merit to those theories. Besides, one of those crazy stories brought up an interesting question."

"Like what?"

"Listen, governments around the world, starting with the United States, banned supers or strictly limited their activities in 1983. For the next fifteen years, that law was heavily enforced. One of those crazy stories I've heard was that some supers didn't go along quietly with this and someone…or a group of someones….with a lot of power decided to make an example out of those people. I've heard stories similar to Rampage, but from the other end. After all, when the so called heroes are 'banned' or strictly controlled, you have to ask yourself: What happened to all those so called super-powered bad guys they fought? Since they never really followed the law, how come they didn't go crazy and go on a crime or killing spree when the heroes were being clamped down on? I'm thinking my father, along with a few other top-grade 'Big Bads' were targeted deliberately to send a message to the others."

"Crucifixions," O'Reilly said after thinking about it for a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, sorry, my mind drifted a little bit," O'Reilly replied. "I was thinking about the ancient Romans and what they did whenever they conquered a village or a city. They would take a certain percentage of the conquered population, men, women, children, and then crucify them. They would then place the remains in a town square or on the city walls as a warning to the others should they try to stand up against their masters."

"Okay…that's seriously fucked up," Jean said. "But that makes sense and would explain the relative calm before Galatea happened." Then he laughed again. "I suppose that fucked up their status-quo, didn't it? After all, kind of hard to reign in supers when more and more began emerging from the woodwork, right?"

"Actually, who's to say someone hasn't tried reigning them in?" O'Reilly asked. "Think about it, Galatea goes off, novas begin to erupt around the world...and yet Project Utopia is almost created and put into place practically overnight. Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

For a moment, Jean said nothing, because O'Reilly's words reminded him of the conversation he had with his "lawyer" a couple hours earlier.

"_**Do you really expect me to believe that there is some sort of unseen shadowy cabal that is playing a glorified game of Chess with people around the world? Dude…seriously…this Illuminati bullshit went out of style in the nineties."**_

_**"That's the funny thing about people like me, Mr. Renard. We can operate openly because the public has been so inundated with the idea in popular media, that people now disregard such a concept as fiction or some crackpot conspiracy theory. After all, they've read books and watched movies and television shows that show so many variations of the same theme...it would be ludicrous that such an obvious conspiracy could operate in the real world because they believe they would see such a thing, not even realizing that they are being manipulated into believing that."**_

_**"Yeah, but it's too damn obvious. I mean, even now, people can see Utopia and those backing it for what they are. What?"**_

_**"Then if it's so obvious that they're the ones manipulating people behind the scenes, wouldn't that make one wonder that there might be something controlling the so-called 'puppet-masters'?" **_

"So who controls the puppet-masters?" Jean asked himself out loud.

"What was that, Renard?"

Jean shook his head. "Nothing, Detective," he said, "it's just that with all the weird shit I've been through lately, I'm starting think you might be on to something. And you know what...it scares the hell out of me."


	45. A Lull and Loose Ends III

Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf still does (sadly). Don't own The Incredibles, Pixar does (and I still think Brad Bird and crew would kill me if they saw what I did to their creations). PRIMUS and the IHA are products of HERO games.

Author's Notes: Okay...only a couple more chapters to go on this bad boy and we can call "Season 2" a wrap. I'm in the middle of going through and editing all the chapters to this fic and putting it up on DA (because I'm not sure how long FFN will let me post this story here). As usual, thanks to everyone who stuck around for this crazy ride.

* * *

_I've always put great value in the numbers and the fact that no matter how many there are and no matter how complex the equation, everything made sense and there would always be a logical conclusion or solution to the equation. However, not all equations have that simple or defined solution. Sometimes, a chaotic element or a sudden change of value in one component of the equation will completely alter the expected outcome or, perhaps even worse, present no solution at all._

_Until the events of Houston, the equations, though multi-linear, had a number of solutions and could be applied logically. However, since the destruction in Houston and the sudden shift of geo-political power on the world-scape, nothing is certain, solutions are not defined, and...quite possibly, not attainable which bodes well for no one._

-Pedro Santiago, The Mathematician

* * *

_**8 November 2006**_

_**Washington D.C.**_

_**1700 Hrs. EST**_

William Ackerman was surprised that Robert Kaufman, the Director of PRIMUS, offered to take him back to his residence in Georgetown in his limousine. Though he had nothing against the agency or "The Golden Avenger" himself, William didn't care much for the 'pseudo-heroic' image the agency tried to project. As far as he was concerned, an American agency shouldn't hide behind the guise of a mask or a cheesy image that looked more suited for a comic book than the real world.

However, given what had happened in the last eight years since the Galatea incident and the resulting eruptions of "novas" (that was the new modern term for new supers whose powers suddenly manifested) around the world, the sudden advancement of modern technology, and the chaos of a changing world, it made sense the world would start to look like something out a of a twisted and warped comic book written by some hack writer who couldn't write a real story.

The meeting with the Senator from Texas was interesting to say the least, but he was surprised by the sudden appearance of the mysterious Gabriel. When he first heard about the man, William dismissed him as a showboating and arrogant jerk that the Church of Michael had dragged up from the depths of their pathetic backwoods ranks of quasi-religious fanatics and inbred country hicks. However, there was something about Gabriel's demeanor that told William that, while he was right about the man being an arrogant showboat, there was a very dangerous man behind that façade. Though he did not appreciate the man's threats to his life, William was surprised at the thumb drive Gabriel presented to him and was eager to study the drive's contents when he got to his office.

He was still holding the thumb drive in his hand, almost unconsciously twirling it between his fingers as he looked across the passenger compartment at his host. "I must say, Direct Kaufman, I am surprised that you wished to talk to me after the meeting with the Senator," he said. "After all, you are a very busy man, especially since you've taken that bastard Pax into custody."

Kaufman smiled at him and nodded. "True," he replied as he reached off to the side and opened the mini-fridge in the compartment to pull out a bottle. "Care for a bottle of water?"

William took the offered water, opened it and took a sip. "Thank you," he said. "I suppose this is not a social meeting."

"No, it is not," Kaufman admitted. "And you are correct in the fact that I am busy dealing with the fallout in Houston and taking custody of Pax. Those fools at the UN and Utopia are doing their damndest to force me to hand him over to their custody and I refuse to do so."

"Well, no offense, Director, but that's a lot of pressure and, just because you keep telling them 'no', they won't stop demanding you turn the freak over to them."

Kaufman gave him a predatory grin. "Oh, I'm very aware of that," he said, "and I hope that they keep making those demands, the bigger the better."

William was about to ask why, but the realization quickly dawned on him. "Because every time they make the demand, you're going to publicly deny it and tell them to go to hell," he said, nodding in understanding. "And because of what happened in Houston, the American public in general will see you as the lone American warrior standing up to the evil 'one world' regime trying to destroy their country."

"That's laying it on a little thick," Kaufman chuckled, "but essentially, yes, that is exactly how I intend to play it. For every attempt they make, I'll call a press conference and, with a few strategically placed questions that I will answer honestly, the American public will see Utopia and their novas as the threats they truly are."

"And the more Utopia pushes you, the more heroic your defiance looks to the people." William nodded in approval as he scratched his chin. "A very sound plan, simple and easily executed; but what does that have to do with you wanting to talk to me privately?"

This time, Kaufman's expression became all business. "Very well," he said, "I'll just get right to the point. I understand your organization has been contracting various private firms with, shall we say slightly questionable ethics, to do some research into your own version of Cyberline."

"It's hardly a secret," William smirked. "Almost every major government and various private firms dream of coming up with a new and improved version of the Cyberline serum. You know what our organization is all about; of course we would be interested in anything that could improve the HUMAN condition."

"What if I told you that I found evidence that someone succeeded?" Kaufman took a folder off the seat next to him and handed it to William who opened it and began to read the contents. "The young woman is a photo of one Miss Violet Parr, she's David Flynn's Vice President and, yes, she's a nova. You may know her as- "

"Spectrum," William finished for him. "Yes, I know, she's the heroine Spectrum and we know who her family is. We also know that targeting any of them would bring the NSA and possibly Flynn down on us and we aren't ready for that."

"True," Kaufman said, "who the Parrs are is kind of an open secret and you would be correct that targeting any of them would be a bad idea because it brings more trouble than it would be worth. The NSA could be dealt with, but you are also correct about Flynn. You've seen what he's done to Utopia and believe me when I say the last thing I want is to draw his attention."

From the way Kaufman was speaking, William could mentally hear the man add the words "_at this time"._ He nodded in agreement and went through other files. "Doctor Aaron Saunders," he read aloud before looking back up at Kaufman. "I've read about him, he specializes in robotics, doesn't he?"

"Among other things," Kaufman replied. "Over the last few years, he dedicated himself by applying his expertise to the medical field and he was on the verge of a breakthrough."

"What kind of a breakthrough?"

Kaufman leaned back in his seat. "Several years ago, we had contracted Kaufman to develop an alternative to the Cyberline treatment using nanotechnology. While there were some promising results, he, nor any of our experts, was able to quite get it right. Ultimately, we had to scrap the project, but I suspected the good doctor hadn't given up on the project. While he did focus more on his nanotechnology, I suspected that he hadn't given up on the Cyberline alternative." He pulled a small data-pad out of his jacket and held it up for William to see as it flashed to life showing news clips of Violet Parr being shot. "As you know, Violet Parr took a sniper round meant for Flynn, it effectively severed her spinal column and did damage to various organs. Even though she was a nova, she would more than likely be a cripple if she ever recovered. As it was, she was in a coma and her condition was deteriorating."

Surveillance video footage of David Flynn meeting with Doctor Saunders outside a hospital flashed across the screen.

"As you can see, Flynn wasted no time in contacting Saunders," Kaufman continued. "Now what you're about to see was footage taken only a day ago."

William Ackerman's jaw dropped open disbelief as he saw Violet Parr running across rooftops and making a forty foot jump between two buildings. "You mean to tell me that Saunders' little concoction helped her make a full recovery?"

"More than that," Kaufman replied. "According to our agent on scene, it repaired damage to her body and enhanced it."

"If it can do that for a nova," William started to say.

"Then I would imagine Saunders' treatment would greatly augment a baseline human. Apparently, the bastard was holding out on us as far as the progress he has made."

"Apparently," William said, nodding in agreement. "But why show this to me?"

"It's very simple, William, your organization has access to resources that are untraceable. If I were to authorize a PRIMUS team to go after them, it would be too obvious."

"Ah, I see. You want me to have my organization to do your dirty work for you." William tilted his head to one side. "And why should I risk my organizations assets for this?"

"Because I know your IHA does not have the medical and research personnel capable enough to reverse-engineer Saunders' research, PRIMUS does. Not only will I allow you to keep half of the sample you collect from Saunders, but I will also share any research developments my scientists come up with."

William thought about it for moment before nodding. "Very well," he said, "but what do you want me to do about Saunders."

Kaufman paused for a moment as he pondered the possibilities. "I'll leave it up to you," he said, "just make sure he's dead, but leave no evidence implicating either of us."

* * *

**8 November 2006**

**Syndrome Software & Technology**

**Main Campus**

**Metroville, California**

**2000 Hrs. PST**

Bob wasn't sure what to expect as he, Helen, and Jack got out of the car. Though he had been at the SST building a few times already, he still hadn't figured out what to make of the building. It had once been a junior high school, but had been heavily renovated in the last few months since David Flynn purchased the property. In fact, he was surprised at the expense Flynn had put into the project by hiring nova contact workers who wasted no time. In less than a month, they had turned what had been an abandoned old school slated for demolition into a state-of-the-art business center.

The additional buildings that made up the SST campus had literally popped up overnight.

_But that's to be expected when you hire super-human construction workers._

Bob paused for a moment as he looked at the building for a moment and then the surrounding neighborhood. He had heard how David Flynn arranged to buy some of the nearby buildings and was converting them into condo housing for his employees and leasing out the lower levels of those buildings to local businesses at a reduced rate. Within a few months, a section of town that was in danger of becoming the new slums of Metroville had turned around and was coming back to life.

_Oliver Sansweet went out of his way to isolate and treat this section of the city as the dumping ground for all the 'undesirable elements' he didn't want in his little world. Flynn turned that around and seems to be giving these people hope. Crime has certainly dropped in this area since they showed up._

Bob smiled as he looked up and saw a winged shape fly overhead. It was that winged reptilian creature that worked for Flynn. The 'creature' probably would have looked menacing if it weren't for the fact he was wearing jeans, an LA Lakers jersey and carrying several pizza boxes.

_Then again, criminals are more likely think twice when it's obvious that novas live in this section of town and are a regular sight here._

The winged nova landed in front of the front entrance of the building, waited until someone opened the door, and then pretended to scream as he was mobbed by several people who wanted the pizza. "Oh god! Piranha attack! Nooooooo!"

"Ooookay," Jack said as they approached the front door a few seconds later. "That's not a good sign, can I go home now?"

"No," Helen said.

"But mom, it's a school night, and I should be home like other normal kids."

"That means you'd be home on your Playstation 3 playing video games." Helen looked down at her son. "Keep in mind that you're still grounded, young man."

"What, you don't trust me?" Jack asked.

"To be honest, Jack, no," Bob replied, not even bothering to stifle his chuckle. "We don't trust you. You're too opportunistic."

"That's not true," Jack said, "I'm just a little kid who doesn't even know what 'opportunistic' means. Remember, I'm a product of the American school system."

"Yes," Helen said, "a little kid who, apparently opened up a bank account we didn't know about and has made over two thousand dollars in the last two years selling goodies on school grounds."

"You weren't this hard on Dash when he was my age," Jack grumbled.

"Dash was nowhere as smart as you when he was your age," Bob countered.

Despite himself, Jack grinned. "And he never will be," he said under his breath.

"What was that, Jack?"

"Nothing, Mom."

Helen was about to say something else when another car, a classic Impala, pulled up and Lucius Best got out of the car. "Evenin', everyone," Lucius said in greeting as he closed the car door and approached them.

"Lucius," Bob said, shaking his friend's hand. "I take it the kid called you as well."

"Yeah," Lucius replied. "You think it's got something to do with the information he shared with us this last month?" He then noticed Jack standing there. "Are you sure you should be bringing Jack here?"

"Leaving him at home isn't an option at this time," Bob said. "He's grounded and we don't trust him to follow the rules while we're gone." What he didn't say was that they brought Jack along because they weren't sure if the family was still under surveillance and they didn't feel comfortable leaving the kid by himself at home.

However, Lucius got it and nodded in understanding. "Yeah, well…you know how they can't be trusted at that age," he said.

"Excuse me," Jack snapped, "the kid in question is standing right here and can hear you talking about him just fine."

"Indeed he is," Lucius chuckled, ruffling Jack's hair before gesturing to the front door. "So, shall we?"

The four of them went through the front door and entered the lobby to be bombarded with a cascade of laser light and pulsating music. Some of the SST personnel were dancing away on a make shift stage while others were talking, eating, or playing video games over in a lounge area that had several mini-kiosks containing the new video-game console SST was promoting.

"Ooookay," Jack finally said. "As far as secret super-villain lairs go…this fails in the 'secret' department. Then his eyes widened as he saw something off in a far corner. "Cool, they got a board park in here!"

Before Helen could react, Jack was already taking off toward where a couple novas were skateboarding in an area that had been specially set up for them. She was about to go after him, but stopped when a seven foot tall and powerfully built redheaded woman stepped in front of her.

"It's okay, Helen," Penny Sefton said, pausing for a moment to take a sip of water. "David's pretty tight about security here, especially after what happened last week."

"Penny." Helen kept her voice neutral, but she couldn't resist dropping a tint of anger. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you," Penny replied. "When Syndrome's bastard calls me and says he wants to talk, I have to admit I'm curious especially when he offers my company some very promising contract proposals."

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Helen said. "Financial concerns always were a priority for you."

"Helen, let it go," Bob said softly. He then reached up and shook Penny's hand. "It is good to see you again, Penny."

"Yeah," Lucius said, stepping forward and giving the redhead a hug. "It's been awhile Megalass."

Penny shuddered at that. "Please," she said, "I think I outgrew that a long time ago."

"So where's Damon?" Lucius asked. "Is he here?"

"He's around," Penny replied. "He and a Camille Blevins were talking about disassembling an artificial habitat and rigging its components for transport."

"The BioSpehere 2 project in Arizona?"

"Yes. I must admit that I was shocked to hear Flynn had purchased the facility, but I'm even more shocked that he wants to have it disassembled once they repair and renovate it and have it prepared for shipment." Penny shrugged her shoulders. "Then again," she said, "since he's paying for it and his money's good, I'm not complaining."

"Of course you wouldn't," Helen snapped.

"Oh, c'mon, Helen," Penny said, "that was over twenty two years ago. You can't be holding a grudge against me over that."

"You shouldn't have kept the money, Penny," Helen said.

"Money," Lucius said, not sure what was going on. "Bob, what's she talking about?"

Bob sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing Lucius," he said. "Helen…just let it go."

Helen ignored her husband. "That was blood money and you know it," Helen said.

"Yeah, belonging to a corrupt government backed agency and you knew damn well it would have just gone back into the system if we forked it over to them," Penny replied. "It was 'off the books', Helen. They didn't know."

"And that's why we agreed to donate it to charity."

"No, Helen. YOU agreed to donate it to charity and expected me, your little pre-teen sidekick to go along with it." This time, there was anger in Penny's eyes as she spoke. "Do you also remember what was happening back then, Helen? Oh wait…of course not…you had just gotten married and probably weren't thinking too much about it. But I was thinking about it all the time."

"We had no idea the ban would pass," Helen said.

"Maybe you didn't, but I did," Penny fired back. "I mean, c'mon, what was I going to do? I was a twelve year old girl trapped in an amazon's body and my father was a former criminal. Do you really think I would have been able to easily blend into society and pretend to be 'normal' like you did?"

"We managed to do it." Though her tone was firm, Helen didn't sound too sure of her statement. "And we did okay."

"Yeah," Penny smirked. "You only had to relocate several times because of how many 'accidents' caused by Bob here? And tell me, do you think Dash and Vi appreciated being forced to 'live normal'? I can tell you it didn't work out that well for me. After all, I had been groomed my whole life up to that point to be a 'super' and I realized that I didn't have anything else going for me. So yeah, you better believe I took the damn money because I had nothing and the damn public at the time was more than willing to screw me over because of some damn lawsuit brought on by some asshole that got pissed at your husband for saving his life."

"You could have done something," Helen persisted.

"As what," Penny snapped angrily, "a Playboy centerfold or porn star? I was twelve!"

"Okay," said a new voice that caused all of them to turn and see the long-haired Native American nova called Null stepping up to join them, "I think this is a good time to step in and tell you that David will be seeing you now." He then proceeded to lead them towards one of the elevators that would take them to the upper levels. "If you would be so kind to follow me and try not to kill each other on the way there, please, I just mopped and waxed the floors."

Bob managed to not laugh at Null's comment, but he did hear a woman chuckle. He turned to see who it was standing behind him, but was shocked to find no one standing there.

_That's strange,_ he thought, _I thought someone was standing there._

A couple minutes later, they exited the elevator at the top floor and followed Null down a hallway with a pair of heavy oak doors at the end. Bob took a moment to look around and noted that this level looked more like the floor of a hotel room. Glancing around, he could see several doors that had nameplates on them. "Null, right?"

"Yeah," said the Native American without looking back. "Are these offices?"

"Sort of," Null said. "These are residential and guest suites. A few employees live here, like David and myself. Violet's got a suite here but she only used it a couple times and that was recently." He then stopped in front of the giant oak doors and opened them. "And this, is what we call our boardroom"

Though Null called it SST's boardroom, it didn't strike Bob as a boardroom so much as an oversized lounge with comfortable chairs on the side or in a corner with a small end table here and there. There was a self-service bar on one side of the room and Bob noted that Walter and Jennifer Kilmarten were there, talking quietly while each of them sipped a glass of wine. They both glanced in his direction and Walter gave Bob a slight nod in greeting while Jennifer only tilted her head slightly to one side and gave a tiny, but emotionless smile. Bob was certain that Jenny's glare was not meant for him, but for Helen. A glance at Helen confirmed his suspicion as Helen responded to Jenny's icy glare with one of her own.

_The last time we all met, these two almost came to blows. I hope we can avoid another confrontation like that again. Although, from what Flynn told me on the phone this morning, I get the ugly feeling things are going to get bloody._

To say it had been one hell of a week for Bob and his family was an understatement. His daughter had been shot, almost died, and subjected to an experimental procedure that not only saved her life but had completely healed her.

_Although, if what I heard from the others were true, it might have changed her physically in some way._

To his own surprise, Bob couldn't bring himself to hate Flynn for what happened. Oh, he was angry at what happened, but he remembered the look he saw on the boy's face that night.

_The only person Buddy Pine cared about was himself; he didn't give a damn about others. He was afraid for her. David cares for those around him…something that makes him different from his father._

Then he suppressed a shudder as he remembered the following morning when David Flynn confronted Brian Paladino in the interrogation room.

_**"So, Brian, this is how it's going to play out. Violet Parr is in critical condition and we're not sure if she's going to make it. If she dies, I will devote all of my assets in tracking your sister down. There is no place on this fucking planet that she will be able to hide and when she is found, expect her to be slowly tortured to death and I will pay whoever is doing it to make it last as long as they can and to make sure they record every terrible long moment on high definition video which will then be piped down to whatever deep and dark little hole you ultimately end up in. And I will make sure that footage is played back on continuous loop for your viewing pleasure." **_

That was when Bob realized that while David Flynn was nothing like his father, he had a dark side that bordered on a ruthlessness that rivaled that of Buddy's and possibly surpassed it.

_What bothers me about that isn't the threat he had made, but the possibility I might not have tried to stop him if he attempted to carry out that threat._

Thankfully, Violet did recover and that rendered the possibility of Flynn following up on his threat unlikely.

_Of course, that's another can of worms altogether. Flynn didn't inject her with the nanotech, though, that was Bridgette Saunders._

Again, Bob was torn about that situation as well. He was all for doing whatever it took to saving his little girl and Flynn was doing his damndest to help. Bob remembered Helen's reaction when Flynn first introduced them to Doctor Aaron Saunders and what he proposed to do.

"_**You've done enough damage already, you little bastard. Now you want to turn her into someone's science experiment?"**_

It didn't occur to Bob until a few days after that confrontation that David Flynn didn't just call Saunders in and inject Violet with the nanotech. Instead, the boy tried to talk to them first and reason with them. Bob could tell the kid was desperate and, if it were up to him, he would have probably stolen the nanotech and injected Vi with it already.

_But the kid wanted our permission first. Even Doctor Saunders wasn't too keen on the idea of human experimentation._

However, fate intervened in the form of Saunders' daughter basically saying "screw ethics" and administering the specialized concoction to Vi.

"Hello Mr. Parr, Mrs. Parr." Bob turned to see a young woman in her late twenties, possibly early thirties, standing there. She stood about six feet tall, had short-cropped blond hair and was wearing dark jeans, a leather jacket, and moved with an elegant but lethal grace. There was something familiar about her, but Bob couldn't place it. Her accent sounded European, either French or German, Bob couldn't be sure. "I must admit that I never dreamt we would be meeting together at a gathering like this."

"I'm sorry," Bob said, trying to figure out why this woman seemed so damn familiar. "But do I know you?"

The woman smiled at him. "No, Robert Parr," she replied as she reached out and shook his hand. "We have not met, but you and my father have fought many times. Believe it or not, he truly respected you even though he was trying to kill you most of the time. My name is Sophie Rousseau."

For some reason, that name was familiar. "Rousseau," he repeated, "any relation to a Sabine Rousseau?"

"Sabine Rousseau," Helen's voice was filled with guarded hostility. "Madam Blue, the assassin?"

"Yes," Sophie replied, "that Rousseau."

Then it clicked for Bob. Madam Blue was a magical assassin (well, claimed to be magical but Bob was certain it she was just another super) who was the right hand of Wilhelm Von Rohrs also known as…

"Von Ruthless," he said.

Sophie Rousseau grinned. "That was just his other name," she said. "I referred to him as 'papa', 'father', or even 'Dad', some of the time."

"Well, your 'Dad' killed a lot of people back in the day," Helen snapped.

"Only those who stood against him," Rousseau countered. "Granted, he was always scheming big back then so a lot of people opposed him." She gave Bob a sad look. "His final years were not good ones, Mr. Parr. When you were forced to go underground, I believe something inside him died."

"How so?" Bob asked, genuinely curious because Von Ruthless seemed to disappear almost right after the ban went into effect.

"Dad always told me that you could judge a man by the quality of his enemies and, though he saw you as an inferior, he respected your stubborn resolve to never give up and wondered at your 'on-the-fly' resourcefulness that you seemed to employ at the last minute to defeat him."

Bob couldn't help chuckling at that. "That wasn't resourcefulness, it was desperation."

"Whatever it was, it impressed him," Rousseau said.

"Well that's nice," Helen said. "It's good to know a mass murderer respected my husband. I suppose he's going to show up here too?"

Rousseau's expression suddenly darkened. "No," she replied. "He was killed nineteen years ago…murdered actually."

Bob wasn't quite sure how to take that news. Sure, one of his arch-enemies was dead, but there was something in the way Rousseau mentioned that said there was more to it than that. "What happened?" he asked.

"The official version is that there was an 'accident' at one of the chemical plants that served as a front for his base of operations in Argentina." Rousseau shook her head, a bitter look on her face. "It was no accident," she said, "it was an execution and a warning."

"What do you mean?" Helen's disgust was still obvious in her voice when she spoke. "Your father was a murderer, a criminal. He got taken down, end of story."

"And if it was some organization or recognized group with authority, I would believe that." Rousseau glared back at Helen. "But it wasn't, they were unknowns and, as you probably noticed, his death or disappearance was never reported. I'm just surprised that someone like you, Helen Parr, who is supposedly one of the more intelligent supers out there, didn't ask themselves that one simple question."

"What question might that be?"

"Why did the so called 'super villains' go along with the ban? After all, they WERE, as you pointed out, criminals. They had no reason to follow the law, why did they go along with it?" Rousseau then looked back to Bob. "Andre Moreau, Mr. Parr, or as you once knew him, Bomb Voyage," she continued, "did you ever wonder how he died?"

"I don't need to wonder," Bob said. "He was killed in a house-fire in Montreal."

"Yes." Sophie nodded her head. "A man who was very familiar with explosives, explosive devices, and able to withstand going hand to hand against you in a fist-fight, gets killed in a fire caused by a gas main explosion at his home. Don't you find that the least bit odd?"

Before Bob could answer, he was cut off by a familiar rough and gravelly voice. "He had no reason to think about it," Rick Dicker said as he joined the trio. "Bob and his family had their own problems."

"Rick," Bob said, "what are you doing here?"

"To give answers, Bob," the older man replied. "Apparently, young Flynn over there is pissed off and figured it was time to get a bunch of people together and crucify me in an attempt to get information."

"And you agreed to this?" Helen asked. "What does the little shit have on you?"

"He has nothing on me," Dicker snorted back. "But if he wants answers, fine. I'll give him answers but he, like you, won't like 'em."

"Director Dicker," Rousseau chuckled, "I assure you that crucifying you, though the idea does sound appealing to me, is not David Pine Flynn's intention." She gestured at the other dozen people in the room. "You have Penny Sefton over there, the Kilmartens over there, Lucius Best and his nephew talking at the bar, General Clayton Edicott of the United States Marine Corps, and a few other people including myself here in attendance. Yes, Flynn wants you here to provide information, but he wants all of us to provide information on what we know, especially after the events in Houston."

"And why would he even care about something like that?" Helen asked. From her tone, Bob could tell that his wife was not happy with the kind of people that were here at this meeting.

Rousseau shook her head and gave Helen a sad smile. "Mrs. Parr," she said, her tone softening a little, "it saddens me that someone like you still sees the world in terms of 'black and white' or you are quick to judge someone by their parentage."

Helen stiffened slightly at that and Bob wondered if Rousseau knew or suspected the truth about Helen's father. "What do you mean by that?" Helen snapped.

"I mean that you still cling to the mindset that you had twenty years ago, Helen Parr," Rousseau replied. "The world's changed since then…and, as Flynn had pointed out, not for the better despite the advances civilization has made since then."

"Why do you think Flynn's called us here then?" Bob asked. "If he's not here to grill Rick here for information, why bring us together like this?"

"Is it not obvious to you?" Rousseau looked at Bob as if he had asked a stupid question. "David Flynn has called for a council of war."

"War," Bob repeated, "against whom? Utopia?"

Rousseau's soft laugh chilled Bob to the bone. "Utopia is only one enemy, Mr. Parr, and a wounded one at that. Yes, they are still a threat, but I'd be more concerned about the enemy we don't see."

"What do you mean by that?"

"As someone recently pointed out, 'nature abhors a vacuum'. Utopia's diminished authority here in this country and in others has left a big gap." Rousseau's amusement faded and her expression hardened. "Those who will rush in to fill the gap will no doubt learn from Utopia's mistakes," she said. "And you better believe that they will target us next because we're the only serious threat against them."


	46. Council of War I

****Disclaimer: Don't own Aberrant, White Wolf does. Don't own Incredibles, Brad Bird does.

Author's Notes: Yay...another chapter. Sorry for being late in posting this...been really tired between work and my brief hospital stay. Not much happening here...just a meeting of sorts. Anyway, only a few more chapters to go and then we can put "Season 2" to bed...and move on to "Season 3".

As usual, comments and threats are welcome...unless you're that asshole called Downery from TTH (but I don't think snobs like him lurk here). I want to thank NC, Concolor, Shannon, Walker of the Wheel, Rubypaladin, and the Plothook crew for your feedback and help.

* * *

**{ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION…Alphacypher...protoctol…engaged…connection confirmed}**

**Voice 1 (female, middle-aged, New England accent): "Yes."**

**Voice 2 (female, late 30s): "We may have a problem with one of the targets."**

**Voice 1: "I'll say…it's been a week and you have not managed to tie up that operation."**

**Voice 2: "Robertson is still in a coma and he's got high security around him, but he's not the issue."**

**Voice 1: "Ah, you're having problem with the cameraman, then."**

**Voice 2: "Yes, the cameraman, Gregory Paladino…for some reason, the bastard was able to somehow neutralize my abilities. He should have followed us into that newsroom, but he suddenly complained of a migraine."**

**Voice 1: "A migraine you say? Interesting…very interesting indeed."**

**Voice 2: "I'm glad you find this 'interesting', Director, but this Paladino bastard is elusive. I had planned on taking him out at the hospital, but he managed to check himself out before my team could move in. Since then, he's been cagey and hard to track…he knows someone is after him. Also, I've learned through one of my fellow agents that his brother was involved in an attack on David Flynn on the west coast."**

**Voice 1: "That does not concern you, and yes, though the two men are related, Gregory Paladino is not connected to the incident involving David Flynn."**

**Voice 2: "We should have taken the whole lot down in Mexico City."**

**Voice 1: "That is not your decision to make Mezmerella. As it is, we are currently in the middle of a disaster due to the Houston incident."**

**Voice 2: "So should I scrub this mission and report for new orders?"**

**Voice 1: "No…Paladino is a loose end, but we can't deal with him the way we dealt with Ortiz and Richards. Activate the black team, locate Paladino, and terminate him quickly."**

**Voice 2: "And Robertson?"**

**Voice 1: "He's in a coma, correct?"**

**Voice 2: "Yes, which means my powers won't work on him."**

**Voice 1: "Then see to it that he never wakes up."**

_**{Connection Terminated}**_

* * *

_**{ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION…Alphacypher...protoctol…engaged…connection confirmed}**_

_**Voice 1 (female, middle-aged, New England accent): "I was wondering if you were going to call."**_

_**Voice 2 (male, Asian accent): "There is a problem."**_

_**Voice 1 (sighs): "That tends to be a recurring pattern these days. So what is it, Ozaki?"**_

_**Voice 2: "I have learned that two members of the Proteus Council have gone into hiding."**_

_**Voice 1: "Who?"**_

_**Voice 2: "Jason Miller and Mirage."**_

_**Voice 1 (chuckling): "Miller's not hiding, he's up to something."**_

_**Voice 2: "Agreed, however his actions indicate that he isn't turning against us. He seems more interested in making life difficult for Director Lavielle."**_

_**Voice 1: "Oh? Do tell, my friend...did you put him up to this?"**_

_**Voice 2: "No, Director, I did not; he is doing this on his own and that does concern me."**_

_**Voice 1: "I see...you are concerned we have a lone wolf who may decide to bite us in the ass."**_

_**Voice 2: "That's one way of putting it, Director."**_

_**Voice 1: "Ozaki, Jason Miller only cares about one person...Jason Miller. He doesn't give a damn about us and, more than likely, he's probably just ditched us to deal with the fallout for releasing Pine on the world."**_

_**Voice 2: "Agreed, but he does know secrets and I am concerned what he intends to use those secrets for. However, I'm more concerned about Mirage's disappearance."**_

_**Voice 1(laughs): "That is no secret...she's probably trying to warn her son about Pine."**_

_**Voice 2: "Is that wise?"**_

_**Voice 1: "Probably not, but what choice do we have now, Ozaki? Pine is running loose, Phillipa has usurped control of Aeon from us, and you can bet she will use the incident in Houston to justify her purging Utopia of what she deems "undesirable elements". Mirage, whether it's out of self-preservation or out of maternal instinct, has probably decided it would be best to inform Flynn of Pine's existence. If anything, will give David Flynn something to focus on other than us."**_

_**Voice 2: "And it will return us back to our original objective of getting father and son to destroy each other."**_

_**Voice 1: "Precisely. Because of his own nature, Buddy Pine cannot stand the fact that a little bastard grown in a can is enjoying the life he should have had and he will go out of his way to kill the boy and anyone siding with him. David Pine Flynn, from our observations, will not like the fact that his crazy and psychotic father is alive and will no doubt do whatever it takes to stop Pine, especially if Pine targets people Flynn cares about."**_

_**Voice 1: "An accurate assessment, but you know that whoever comes out on top will then come after us. At the moment, we lack the strength and influence to take on the winner."**_

_**Voice 2: "And that is why we need to make sure the conflict between father and son continues for awhile. It will give us time to deal with our own problems and recover so, when the time comes, we will finish off whoever is left standing."**_

_**{Connection Terminated}**_

* * *

**8 November 2006**

**Syndrome Software & Technology**

**Main Campus**

**Metroville, California**

**2030 Hrs. PST**

David looked around the room at his guests and managed to put on a friendly smile despite the fact that he knew half the room didn't really trust him and the other half just outright hated him with the exception of Null and, perhaps, Major General Eddicott who probably didn't trust anyone in the room and was no doubt mentally assessing everyone, who they were, what their capabilities were, and how to take them out.

_The same thing I tend to do almost instinctively when I enter a room, _David thought to himself as he and Eddicott suddenly made eye contact. David nodded at him and the General, after only a moment, gave David a micro millimeter smile before nodding slightly in acknowledgement. Aside from Dicker, Eddicott was the only baseline human in the room. However, just because the man didn't have any powers, that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. The man may have been in his early sixties, but was in excellent shape and was still capable of outrunning many men half his age.

Though David tended to distrust the military, he did trust Eddicott. The man's stance on novas was well known (he saw them as a potential military asset), but he tended to treat the novas who served under him like he would any marine under his command. Unlike the Golden Avenger and PRIMUS, Eddicott still saw novas as people, not weapons. David was certain that the man must have felt some sense of betrayal when it was revealed that one of the novas under his command was a double agent for Utopia and had orders to assassinate him.

_The man is "old school Americana". He still believes in the good of his country and cares about those under his command and those he's sworn to protect. Shooter's betrayal must have hit him hard._

But David's trust in the man was not completely blind. He knew that the General, if he saw David as an enemy to the country he was sworn to protect, wouldn't hesitate to go after David and his people. However, unlike most of David's enemies, Eddicott wouldn't be subtle about it. He would openly attack David, not stab him in the back.

David glanced over in the direction of the Kilmartens and noticed that Jenny Kilmarten, who had been glaring at him only minutes earlier, was now focusing on Helen Parr who had walked in with her husband and Lucius Best.

_Hopefully both Mr. Parr and Mr. Kilmarten will keep their wives from trying to kill each other. I guess I should be glad that the Parrs didn't bring the Drama Queen with them._

His mind flashed briefly back to over a month ago when Dash Parr had jumped him in the parking lot and tried to beat him to a bloody pulp.

_Then again, I doubt Dash will do anything to me now…not if he wants to have something resembling a future in the world that doesn't involve him at a job where he has to say "Would you like fries with that?"_

While he knew it was wrong on some level, David kind of enjoyed the fact that Dash Parr now saw him as his arch-enemy.

_Yay…I'm starting to turn into my father...next thing you know, I'll be donning a cape, have 80s hair, and start singing "I Ran So Far Away"._

He shuddered slightly at that mental image and he could imagine Violet laughing at him.

_Damn you, Vi…you just had to put that image in my head. Speaking of which, where are you?_

He was surprised that Violet had decided to not attend the meeting. A quick mental check with his network informed him that Violet was currently in the gym working out, using her force fields to lift weights and move them across the room. Apparently, she had realized that her powers had gotten a major boost and was trying to test her limits.

_Hmm…looks like I'm not the only one who is curious about the changes she may have gone through._

"So, why did you bring us here, Flynn?" asked Penny Sefton. David had been so lost in thought he hadn't seen the tall redhead step in front of him.

"What, oh sorry," he said, "I was lost in thought."

"My eyes are up here, kiddo," Sefton smirked.

David rolled his eyes as he looked up at her. "Sorry, Ms. Sefton, but that joke is getting old, right alongside you. While your 'deck guns' are impressive, they're like a relic from a bygone era and belong in a museum and I'm not interested in museum pieces."

The redhead looked down at him for a moment, carefully studying him before suddenly laughing and slapping him in the side of the arm. "Ha! I like you, kiddo…your father didn't have the wit or the balls to make that statement."

"Thanks," David said, "and…ow, that hurt a little."

"Oh c'mon…that was just a love tap."

"Actually, I'm referring to your comparing me to my father."

Sefton smiled at him again. "And 'zing'." Then her smile faded a little. "But seriously, why are we here? I mean, you've got a bunch of heroes from over two decades ago, a military guy, me, a few new generation supers, the daughter of a very dangerous man, and…last, but not least, the creepy old man from the NSA."

"And that, Ms. Sefton," David said, "is as good excuse as any to get started. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming." He made a gesture with his hand, completely unnecessary since he was mentally linking to the building's network but it made for good theater as lights dimmed slightly and small holographic screen displays appeared in front of everyone in the room except for David. "The holo-displays that just appeared in front of you are interactive. Just reach out and touch it, and you'll be able to activate various windows and media you might come across."

Damon Best reached up at the floating screen in front of him and smiled as the tiny SST icon glowed for a moment and opened up a window as his hand touched it. "Very nice," he said. "Penny, we gotta' get one of these systems."

"We don't make THAT much money, Damon," Sefton fired back, "and don't expect me to fork out the cash for it. Besides, we don't have a boardroom…we tend to use the Opportunity's engine room for our business meetings."

"It would be one hell of an engine room," Damon laughed.

"We got time for 'show and tell' later," David said, though he couldn't suppress his smile. He noted that General Eddicott's reaction indicated the man was interested in this technology as well. "But let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we?" As he spoke, images and various accompanying icons appeared on the screens. "What you're seeing here is data provided from everyone here in regards to some of the crap Utopia's done recently along with some other events that are unrelated but could affect us."

"Then exactly why am I here?" Dicker asked. "I've provided you with what you all need to know."

"Need to know," David chuckled, "I wonder how many people have heard that phrase used before being sent to their deaths by their superiors who didn't tell them EVERYTHING they needed to know." He shook his head. "Never mind that, Dicker, there is a reason you are here and, contrary to what others might think, it's not for you to be metaphorically crucified in front of everyone. However, I am going to give everyone about an hour to go over the data and you can talk amongst yourselves. After the hour, if any of you have questions for me, I'll answer them. And then, Mr. Dicker, I will have just one question for you." He then gave the older man a predatory grin that eerily reminded Bob Parr too much of Buddy Pine. "And believe me when I say it's a big one, I just hope you're man enough to give me a straight answer."

With that final statement, David then walked over to the boardroom doors where Null was waiting for him. He ignored some of the snickers or gasps of outrage from some of his guests in reaction to his arrogant display. Yes, his presentation was a little dramatic, but he knew that, in about an hour, almost all of his guests would be outraged and his arrogant little show would be long forgotten. He gave Null a questioning look and the Native American responded with a slight nod. Without saying another word, he followed Null out of the room, but said nothing until the doors were closed behind them.

"Well?" he asked.

Null nodded and handed a data-pad of his own. "You were right," he said showing David some of the data on the screen that indicated how many people were in the room. "You do have an extra guest in there."

David's eyes widened in amazement as he checked the data and then mentally linked to his building's network again. "Holy shit," he said as the network confirmed the pad's data. "They are good. In that room, the surveillance system picked up nothing."

"How is that possible?" Null asked. "How can they hack the network in there, but not affect the rest of the facility? It's all connected."

"They're not affecting the network, Null," David said, looking back down at the data again. "In fact, they're not affecting anything at all except perception. They just didn't count on the atmospheric sensors detecting air disturbance or the floor sensors picking up that extra one hundred and twenty pounds and logging it in on a one second delay."

"Then how did they get in?" Null asked.

"My guess…they just walked in and they're still in the boardroom, probably watching and waiting."

"You think they're Utopia?"

David shook his head. "No, not Utopia," he said.

"Should I get Crystal?"

"No, whoever is doing this would probably sense her and make a bolt for it." David looked at the data for a third time. "It's remarkable," he said. "To possess that kind of ability, to pretty much just tell the minds of multiple targets that you're not there and they can't see, hear, or smell you. They must be pushing themselves pretty hard to affect so many targets and tell my mind that it's not detecting anything from the building's security system."

"Then what should we do?"

"For the moment, nothing," David said as he reached up and pulled back the sleeve on his shirt to reveal the sleek metallic bracer he wore on his fore-arm. He tapped the bracer's surface and a tiny LED screen flashed into existence as the ZP gauntlet's computer linked to Null's data-pad. He then walked over to a courtesy phone mounted on the wall of the hallway and dialed a number. "Hello, Diamondhead Pizza? This is David Flynn…yeah…that guy. I'd like to make an order, a delivery. Yeah…I know, you've been getting a lot of orders from us today, but this is for myself this time. I'd like a large pepperoni and pineapple pizza with those grilled mushrooms on it. And," he looked over at Null, "you want anything?"

"My usual," Null said.

"Grilled chicken and garlic with the salsa on the side," David continued ordering, "and a couple two liter bottles of Coke. Yeah, let me pull up the account number for you." David blinked a moment as he pulled up one of the SST expense accounts and rattled off the number on it. "Thank you very much and we'll be here." He then hung up the phone and dropped down into one of the nearby chairs that were in the hall.

Null sat down beside David and shook his head. "So…we're just going to sit here and eat pizza while we wait for all hell to break loose in there?" he asked, gesturing at the doors to the boardroom.

David shrugged his shoulders. "Might as well," he replied. "Gonna' need whatever strength for what's going to happen."

"That's seriously fucked up."

David grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah," he chuckled, "I know."

It took about half an hour for the pizza to arrive and David was finishing off his first slice when he heard some shouting coming from the board room. He glanced over at Null who was starting his second slice and smiled. "Well," he said, "it looks like the fireworks are starting early."

Null waited a couple seconds to respond, chewing and swallowing his bite of pizza first. "Indeed it does." He nodded towards the boardroom. "Should we go in and calm them down?"

David shook his head. "Nah, I gave them an hour and they still have almost twenty minutes to go."

* * *

To say that Helen Parr was angry would have been an understatement. It could be argued that she was merely angry when David Pine Flynn showed up in their lives a couple months ago and that anger continued to build, going from a tiny fire back then into a raging inferno when her daughter was nearly killed a week ago. However, now, in addition to being angry, Helen felt like she was about to throw up. She had seen some of this data before, some of it told to her by Bob and, most recently, by David Flynn; but she had chosen to disregard most of that information since Flynn was the source.

But, with all this and other information presented to her, and NSA Director Richard Dicker there to confirm everything, she couldn't just disregard that information anymore. Even more stunning was Lucius, one of their oldest and closest friends, godfather to her children, telling her about the possibility that there was a clone of her husband running around with some unknown nova hit squad. It all sounded so ludicrous and impossible, like something out of a bad movie script or a poorly written comic book that one of her sons used to read; and yet…Dicker confirmed everything.

How could she, her husband, and others be so blind and not see such things happening?

_Oh, _snickered a voice in Helen's mind that she had learned to hate over the last couple months, _you were only blind because you wanted to grasp on to that false security of a life that your secret identity gave you._

Helen hated it when her conscience played devil's advocate; it always left her with doubts about some of the choices she made. One thing she prided herself on was, when she decided on a course of action, she would see it through to the end, the hell with her own self-doubts.

_And that turned out so well for you,_ chided that tiny little voice in her head. _Especially when new "supers" emerged, you and your family could have the best of both worlds…occasionally "playing hero" some of the time and being "The Parr Family" the rest of the time._

STOP IT.

The voice shut up at Helen's silent scream. She refused to let her decisions come back and haunt her. If she had made a mistake, then she would fix it, but she would not be a slave to her own doubts and fears.

That's when the voice returned, however, it was less antagonistic.

_That's true, you've acknowledged some of the mistakes you've made in the past and you've tried to correct them. But if that's the case, how come you haven't forgiven Penny for her actions. She does have a point._

Helen, despite herself, couldn't fully forgive Penny Sefton for betraying her like that, regardless of the reasons. On the other hand, she was proud that the young girl she almost treated like a little sister grew into a successful business woman; but Helen couldn't forgive the girl for building such a business on what was essentially blood money.

_And that's the problem with David Flynn, isn't it?_

No, she hated David Pine Flynn because he was the son of the bastard that had tried to kill her family and kidnap her youngest son. As far as Helen was concerned, David Pine Flynn was just "Buddy Jr." waiting to happen; Buddy Pine was a psychopath and his son was just the same.

_And has the boy done anything like his father has? Granted, he has his father's flair for showmanship, but has he truly done anything that says he is following in his father's footsteps?_

My daughter nearly died because of him, Helen thought back coldly.

_And you saw what he did in retaliation for what happened to Violet. He did whatever he could to save her life…does that sound like someone following in the footsteps of their homicidal father?_

By turning Violet into a walking science experiment, Helen countered.

_That was not his decision, that was made by someone else and you know it._

Helen had to concede that point. David Pine Flynn didn't inject Violet with that experimental serum; that was Bridgette Saunders, one of the people who created the nanotech treatment. Suddenly, Helen remembered something Bridgette Saunders said to David when they argued about what she had done.

_**"C'mon Flynn, you're full of it. Look me in the eye and tell me that you weren't planning on injecting her with the nanos with or without consent. Tell me that you were perfectly willing to let her slowly die like that. Tell me that you weren't willing to commit a murder if she didn't make it." **_

Helen wasn't sure to make of that, but she remembered Bob's reaction when he heard that exchange. There was a haunted look on his face, telling her that he knew exactly what Bridgette was yelling at Flynn about. She also remembered Flynn's response.

"_**Stay out of my head."**_

She tried to ask Bob about it, but he refused to say anything other than, "Pray that Violet makes it, because someone else will die if she does."

Helen, for a few seconds, forced herself to drop her bias against David Pine Flynn. Reluctantly, she had to admit that the young man displayed no ill will toward them…except maybe Dash, but that was to be expected because he did jump Flynn in the parking lot and beat him to a pulp.

Flynn even tried to be conciliatory toward her, but she didn't buy that act for a moment.

_But why do you not buy it? Flynn, despite the hostility coming from you and your oldest son, has done what he could to protect your family. Why do you still distrust him?_

Because he is his father's son, Helen mentally shouted back, how much more proof does one need?

The voice was silent again for several seconds and Helen was certain she had won that little argument.

_Then if that's the logic you want to go on…_

Apparently, Helen was wrong.

_If David Pine Flynn is, as you say, "is his father's son"…what does that make you, daughter of Divis Mal? I do believe the word 'hypocrite' comes to mind._

"Okay, let me get this straight." Lucius Best's voice broke up Helen's mental conflict with herself. "First you have Utopia trying to buy off our own elected figures…that part I get because I've seen that shit happening the last eight years, but now you're telling me you got some power-hungry fuckers on the other side waiting to go all 'nova genocide' on the other side and they're the only other alternative?"

"Crudely put, but accurate," Dicker said.

Lucius shook his head. "That's fucked up, man."

"Agreed," General Eddicott said. "As most of you know, I tend to distrust novas that are not in uniform, though I guess it could be argued I don't trust anyone not in uniform." His comment got a couple chuckles. "But speaking seriously, I have some good people serving under me…I'm not about to order their execution just because some Senator doesn't like the fact they can glow in the dark or something."

"That's a rather unusual attitude to have, General Eddicott," Sophie Rousseau said, "especially given the fact that one of your own was revealed to be a Utopia spy with orders to assassinate you."

"Just because Shooter was a traitor doesn't mean I'm going to look at every nova serving under me as a possible enemy. You stop trusting your fellow soldiers, that will cost you dearly in the field."

"But that doesn't answer the question, General," Walter Kilmarten said.

"It would help if you actually asked it, Redline."

Helen could see the tension between the two men, but couldn't understand why. While she didn't think too highly of the Kilmarten's, she couldn't see why Redline seemed to be a little wary of the general.

"When PRIMUS demands you turn someone you work with over into their custody, will you do it?"

The General sighed and shook his head. "That was a long time ago, Walter," he said, "and things were different."

"Doesn't change the fact you turned me over to them for an investigation."

"It was standard procedure back then and you know it."

"Yeah," Kilmarten said, "and because of you I was a guest at a PRIMUS detention center, as was Jenny. She almost miscarried and died while in custody."

Helen's breath caught in her throat. She didn't like the Kilmartens, but she didn't know about this.

"I did not know they would take your wife into custody, Walter," Eddicott said. "And when I found out what they were doing, I did what I could to get your wife released. Besides, you were exonerated in the investigation."

"Yeah, but that didn't change the fact that PRIMUS was watching us 24/7 for the next two years."

Before Eddicott could respond, the boardroom door opened and David Flynn re-entered, flanked by Null. "Well," the young man said, "from the shouting and accusations being thrown around, I think it's time to explain why I brought you all here together."

"Assuming you didn't bring us here to scream at each other, I would say you were calling for a council of war," Sophie Rousseau said before glancing around the room at the others. "You don't seriously think he called us here together just for the sick pleasure of watching us tear into each other, do you?"

Helen, despite her anger, had to fight urge to laugh at that. She then noticed that Flynn was looking at her, as if he was expecting her to say something. However, she refused to give in to temptation.

"There are some here who actually think that," Flynn chuckled, snapping his fingers and causing the floating data-pads to vanish. "But no, I'm not taking some perverted pleasure out of this. I just wanted to get everyone together so we could all share the information we have."

"That was obvious," Dicker said, his usual gravelly deadpan voice echoing slightly through the room. "And since we've all shared our information, I still don't see why you have me here."

"I already told you why you're here, Director Dicker. I still have a question to ask you and I'm certain everyone here is just dying to hear the answer, especially the Parrs." The smile on Flynn's face suddenly disappeared, replaced by a cold and calculating expression. "Tell me, Mr. Dicker," he said, waving his hand and causing a new holographic projection to appear. Almost everyone gasped and Helen had to stop herself from instantly reacting when a life-sized three dimensional projection of Buddy Pine suddenly formed in the middle of the room. David then gestured at the hologram, disgust in his voice as he spoke. "Tell me, Mr. Dicker, are you sure this piece of shit that is my genetic sperm donor is actually dead."

For the first time in her life, Helen saw confusion on the face of Richard Dicker. She then happened to glance over at Bob who also seemed curious about Flynn's question. "Bob," she whispered, "what's going on?"

"I don't know, Helen," Bob whispered back, "but I want to hear this."

"Kid," Dicker said, still confused at this approach. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Flynn glared at Dicker for a moment and Helen could have sworn she saw his eyes glow briefly. "What the hell am I talking about?" Flynn shrugged as he gestured with his hands and various images flashed into existence, floating in the room. "Okay, lets go back a few months ago...the Indian Ocean, remember that freak quake that caused that caused multiple tsunamis that nailed the coastlines of various countries?" Several windows displaying video footage or media clips materialized as David spoke. "And pieces of what some world agencies are claiming to be part of a humongous off-shore oil drilling rig washing ashore. Which is kind of funny since Utopia, thanks to UN backing, heavily restricts oil drilling in an attempt to force the world to 'go green'. However, all the conspiracy nuts, including government agencies knew about the little "secret facility" Utopia kept out there. As far as secrets go, it was a pathetic one, but no one really knew what it was for…it was just another 'hush-hush' Utopia project and no one really cared. Then suddenly, things went ape-shit."

Some of the floating windows vanished to be replaced by a three-dimensional globe and a strange blue sparkling cloud seemed to hover over a region of the Indian Ocean.

"Communications in that area went out, the quake hit, giant waves destroyed a shit load of freighters, slammed into the coastlines of various countries…killing a bunch of people, estimated body count is somewhere near a million or more." Flynn gestured with his hand again, causing the three dimensional display to move to the left as more windows of video footage of a now painfully familiar event materialized. However the globe remained, but shifted to show another "blue cloud" hovering over Mexico. "And then there's Mexico City and the surrounding area," he continued. "Communications went down, planes fell out of the sky because all their electronics went dead, and then…"

Multiple blue mini-flashes erupted in the area marked "Mexico City".

"High powered energy emissions that were picked up by satellite, even through the 'blue haze'." There was an angry tone to Flynn's voice as he spoke. Helen had heard that one before when he dealt with her, but she could see Flynn's rage was directed at Dicker. "Y'know," he said, "that got my interest and it's because of my investigating Mexico City and taking some readings that I learned about what happened in the Indian Ocean."

"Where are you going with this, kid?" Dicker asked.

There was a malicious gleam in Flynn's eyes as footage of the explosion in Houston materialized. "And let's talk about what happened in Houston, shall we? Just about everyone saw Pax let loose and vaporize that assault drone and they all saw the resulting explosion take out the whole damn block."

The globe shifted slightly to show another blue flash in the Houston area.

"Those blue flashes you see," Flynn explained, "are particular energy readings…they all share the same signature. It's pretty unique, actually." He then turned back to Dicker. "Where am I going with this, you ask?" With a wave of his hand, all the media windows vanished but the globe with energy readings still remained. "Those blue energy spikes are of one particular signature, Zero Point Energy," Flynn gestured back to the three dimensional projection of Buddy Pine, "His technology."

There were several more gasps in the room and Helen felt her breath catch in her throat again.

"That's right, people," Flynn said, "someone's using my father's technology. I'll confess that I've done some experimentation on my own in an attempt to copy his tech, but I hadn't been able to quite figure it out yet. However, someone has figured it out and they've weaponized it. Given the fact that no one else should have this technology, I have to ask myself 'If it wasn't me, then who could it have been?' So, I have to ask, Director Dicker, what technology does your department have access to?"

"Whoa, hold on," Dicker said, "you think my group is using your technology? Are you insane?"

"Well, if you ask some people here tonight, they'll tell you I take after my father in the sanity department," Flynn replied, "but that's not the issue right now. Do you have access to my father's ZP technology?"

"We have some of his notes and schematics, you know that. But I kept those locked down and only I have access to them."

Flynn cocked his head to one side, a curious look on his face. "And my father?"

"He's dead," Dicker growled angrily, a sign that he was actually losing his temper. "He was sucked through a jet engine, we found bits of him scattered across the suburbs."

For a moment, Flynn said nothing. Instead, he stood there, seemingly lost in thought. "Interesting," he finally said before nodding, "this may come as a shock, but I believe you. Your bio-readings don't lie and, to be honest, I already knew you were telling the truth."

"Then why go through all this drama?" It took a moment for Helen to realize it was her husband who was asking the question.

"Because, Mr. Parr, I just wanted to get everything out in the open. My father, Buddy Pine, is dead…Dicker is certain of that, and I'm sure all of you take his opinion seriously." Flynn then raised his right arm and Helen saw him tap what appeared to be a metal bracer on his fore-arm. "Unfortunately, even someone like Dicker can be fooled."

Before Helen could react, Flynn suddenly extended his arm in her direction and a burst of energy erupted from the device on his fore-arm. Helen was about to dive for cover and scream for Bob to do the same, but realized the shot went wide, missing her and Bob, but hit…something that she thought was just empty space. Except, the space wasn't empty now; instead, there was a woman standing a few feet away from Bob, screaming in agony as the energy pulsed through her body. After another second or two, the energy dissipated and the woman dropped to her knees, gasping for breath as her long platinum hair fell in front of her face.

Helen's rage returned as she recognized the woman. "Mirage," she hissed.

What surprised Helen was the cold rage on David Flynn's face as he walked over to where they were and looked down at the unwanted guest. "Hello, Mommy," he chuckled humorlessly, "so good of you to join us."


	47. Council of War II

Disclaimer: The Incredibles, owned by Pixar and Brad Bird. Aberrant owned by White Wolf Games...though I would buy the rights if I could. Doctor Cox (though only mentioned) is owned by Buena Vista/Disney.

Author's Notes: Okay...wrapping up the second half of this meeting. For those of you who read "Aeon", I hope you caught what I did. For those of you who didn't, let this be a reminder that if I have written something in the past and it seems to be a "lost" or dangling plot-line, you will realize that is not the case and such minor little things (at least when I write them) will more than likely come back and rear their ugly head before they bite you in the ass. Still not too sure about this, but I wanted to wrap up this meeting and this chapter just didn't want to end. However, don't worry...what happens in this meeting will lead to other events in "War of Angels: Defiance and Insurrection". As usual, thanks to all the crazy people who still read this fic (though I think I might have lost some traffic when FFN had their aneurysm and deleted a lot of accounts). Still looking for some place else to upload my stories though since FFN almost deleted "Countdown" then realized they had "made a mistake". Not too sure what's happening, but I'm certain my fics haven't violated any guidelines. However, that doesn't mean the 'fic gestapo' aren't out in force.

* * *

"_I've often written about the 'unknown variable' and how it could effect the equation. I have spoken with the others about it and, while some like Scripture seem to understand what I am talking about, others dismiss my musings as 'intellectual drivel' or...in the words of Leviathan...'just plain crazy talk'. However, I cannot fault someone like Leviathan for his approach; though he is not truly intellectually enlightened, he is no fool despite acting like one. He may see my musings as 'crazy talk', but he knows that my 'crazy talk' is, as he puts it, 'right on the money'."_

"_But now I see more unknown variables and the equation is fragmenting to the point of degradation. Too many unknowns have appeared and have rendered most of my readings and theories useless and to the point that there truly is no solution. And yet...there is still on unknown variable that is constant, even as the equation falls apart around it. It is almost as if it is a key to the equation, but the equation is not properly ordered."_

-From the personal journal of "The Mathematician" Pedro Santiago

* * *

**8 November 2006**

**Syndrome Software & Technology**

**Main Campus**

**Metroville, California**

David wasn't sure what emotions he was feeling at the moment, although he was certain anger was definitely a major ingredient with maybe a few dashes of satisfaction, giddiness, and possibly some fear thrown in. However, the fear was very minuscule because anger tended to dominate his emotions when he thought about his mother.

_Come to think of it, I think I feel pretty much the same about both of my biological parents._

Actually, to be honest, he never really saw Mirage as his mother…she was just the other genetic donor to his DNA. The woman he referred to as "Mom", Sarah Flynn, was a kind and gentle woman right on up to the end of her life. But Mirage...David saw her as "just another member of Aeon" and, therefore, the enemy. It also helped that David's earliest recollection of the woman was her shooting at him while he was waking up in the containment unit.

_Nothing says "motherly love" like a few bullets between family members._

He ignored the startled gasps from the other people in the room, but the sudden cocking of a weapon from several feet away did get his attention even though he didn't turn around to look at the person holding it. "General Eddicott," he said calmly as he took a couple steps away from Mirage, "if you would be so kind as to keep the Glock out and point it at this…woman…here, that would be greatly appreciated." A mental link to his security system had informed him that the Marine had shifted his aim slightly to target Mirage, but David knew the man was skilled enough to suddenly change targets and take him down as well.

"I'm surprised that you let me keep it when I walked in here with it," the General said, relaxing slightly, but keeping the pistol leveled at its target. "Although," he continued, a thoughtful look on his face, "I have to wonder if you allowed me to keep it because you were expecting something like this to happen."

David smiled at that, but said nothing.

"How long had you known?" Mirage asked as she got back on her feet.

"The moment you stepped through the front door," David replied, ice working its way back into his voice. "The security sensors detected you and anyone looking at the video footage away from you and your unique mental abilities would have seen you. Although, I gotta' admit, it's a pretty cool power…altering perception, basically telling a person's mind that they can't see, hear, or smell you. Even mentally linked to my network here, my mind wasn't acknowledging what the security system picked up until AFTER I left the room."

Bob Parr suddenly smiled as he realized something. "That's why you left the room, your security man informed you."

"Yeah," David said, not turning away from his mother. "So I had my ZP gauntlet lock on to her signature via the network's security system. When I stepped back in the room, her power affected me again, my mind telling me that I was not picking up her bio-signature but I knew that, in reality, it was locked on."

"Bravo," Mirage said, slowly clapping sarcastically, "you actually showed some intelligence for a change instead of reacting instinctively."

"Be thankful for that," David shot back, "because my instinct right now is to watch the General demonstrate the concept of shot grouping by putting three bullets in your chest and a double tap through your head. Make no mistake…I feel nothing for you and I doubt anyone else in this room really gives a damn about you either, given what they know about you. And if they knew the rest of the story, I think even Helen Parr here would be tempted to snap your neck."

"Then why don't you just kill me and be done with it?"

"Because, I'm not a cold blooded killer like you, 'Mother'," David said. "Not only that, I like Jake…he's a pretty good guy even though he's on your payroll. And, by the way, that was pretty sneaky of you having him contact you via a disposable cell-phone and a quantum-dampening field generator that would block me detecting him if he were to call from somewhere off the campus."

"Then how did you…," Mirage started to say until she realized how David figured it out. "Of course," she said, giving him a tiny smile of approval, "he called from a local business near some of the apartment buildings you purchased and had renovated for your employees. You added them to your network as well."

"Yep...although, for what it's worth, the transmission was still garbled; but it only took Shiro about an hour to crack the encryption. You know, a lot of people really underestimate his code-breaking skills." He paused for a moment as he considered something. "I will definitely be giving him a raise come next March." Then his expression became serious again. "So, give me a good reason why I shouldn't let everyone here take a shot at you?"

"I thought you said you weren't a cold blood killer, David."

"I'm not, but I don't think the General will kill you," David said. "He sees you as a threat, but you might possess valuable intelligence. Dicker is also thinking along the same lines. As for the others, I don't think they want to kill you, but I'm sure maiming is acceptable. Except maybe Ms. Rousseau over there, she tends to take a little after her father and incinerate immediate threats."

"You do know how to flatter a woman, Flynn," Sophie Rousseau chuckled. "But, like you, I prefer not to follow in my father's footsteps…too much."

"Whatever," David said, briefly glancing over his shoulder to give the European woman a smile before turning back to face Mirage. "So," he continued, "start talking and don't try to kick your power back on and make yourself disappear; the building's security network is now locked on to you and I promise you won't make it out of here alive if you try to run."

Mirage smiled at David again. "Wow, you're more like him than you realize," she said tauntingly.

Though he showed no outward physical reaction, the malicious gleam in David's eyes told Mirage her comment had scored a direct hit. "Be very careful, 'Mother'," there was no mistaking the disgust in his voice when he said the word "Mother" as if were an epithet. "You do not want to go down that road."

"Flynn…David," everyone was surprised at Bob Parr speaking softly, stepping up to put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Don't do it...she's only trying to goad you." Helen was shocked at her husband's action at first, but Flynn's reaction surprised her even more. She still kept her initial opinion about the young man being a threat, but now she was starting to realize that David Pine Flynn may not be like his father.

_No, but he could be something far worse._

That thought chilled her to the bone. Buddy Pine was an evil man, doing whatever it took to accomplish his agenda. She didn't want to think what could be worse than that.

Again, silence dominated the room for a moment until David nodded his head and looked over at Bob. "You're right, Mr. Parr," he said, taking a few more steps away. "General, if you want, put the gun down."

Slowly, Eddicott lowered his pistol, but he did not put it away.

"Believe it or not, David, I am here to help you," Mirage said.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe. I mean, you're Aeon…you sit on their Proteus Council, for crying out loud. Your little 'club within a club' controls Project Utopia."

"Very true," Mirage admitted, giving him a slight smirk. "And I must admit all the information you've shared tonight is accurate, but believe me when I say that you haven't even scratched the surface." She gestured at the hologram of Buddy Pine. "But you're right, HE is alive." David noted the hint of fear in her voice as she talked about Pine. "We should have killed him when we had the chance, but he was too valuable to Aeon, especially after the Galatea incident."

"Would you mind telling me how he survived being sucked in a jet engine?" he asked.

"While not the same quality of Ms. Mode's work, his suit, combined with a ZP field allowed him to survive…though it did cost him an arm. He went on the run after that, relying on a network of various safe houses he had set up in case he was compromised." Mirage paused for a moment, shuddering again as she seemed to recall something. "He came after me, three years after Galatea...nearly killed me, but we managed to capture him." Her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment. "I suggested having him killed, but the Aeon Directors saw him as a valuable asset, so they had him placed in a special prison out in the Indian Ocean."

"Ah, that would be the secret C-12 Neptune facility that everyone knew about," David said. "A lot of people suspected it was a prison for rogue novas."

"That's the official story we let leak out," Mirage said, "but that was just the cover. The truth is that the facility was there to serve as containment for Pine. While he was under strict supervision, he was allowed to work on various projects for us for the next five years."

"Great, you had your own psycho-genius," Damon Best snapped. "Lock him up during the night, let him build shit during the day. Y'know, I think they do shit like that in China."

"It's the way the world works, boy," Mirage said. "It's a sad fact, and if you can't accept it, then you truly are sheep and unaware of what must be done to maintain order."

"Wow, how progressive of you," Damon shot back.

"Okay, hold on...were getting off subject," David said, cutting Mirage off before she could respond and making the various holographic display windows vanish with a wave of his hand; but the hologram of Buddy Pine still remained. "So you created a 'secret' but publicly known prison for novas on a converted drilling platform but that was just a cover so you could have your," he pointed at the hologram, "little pet scientist develop technology for you."

"They wanted the technology and, in the end, they may have had a point. He was responsible for many of Utopia's technological advances, some of which were shared with the rest of the world."

"Yeah," David snorted, "shared with 'sheep' you could easily lead."

"Spare me your righteous act, David," Mirage snapped. "You're no better than we are; you develop your own technology and sell it for a profit."

"Yeah, it's called capitalism and guess what; it actually works." David refused to let himself be intimidated by this woman. "But let's get back to the matter at hand. You let a mass murderer live and forced him to work for you. Did it ever occur to you that he would escape?"

Mirage shook her head. "He didn't escape, David…he was released."

David almost choked when he heard that. "Whoa," he managed to say after getting over the shock of what he just heard. "Say that again?"

Mirage looked down at the floor for a moment. "The Proteus Council was given a proposal and they voted four to three in favor of it." She looked back up at him, a mixture of fear and regret on her face. "I tried to warn them…voted against them, but they were desperate. Aside from Robert Lansing's hatred of you, the Council and the Aeon board of Directors saw you as a real threat. But they had no idea what Buddy was capable of when they decided to allow him to 'escape'. But now that he's out, they're perfectly willing to let him go after you even if there's…collateral damage."

"Collateral Damage," David repeated slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment as he mentally pulled up a massive data-stream of information from the 'net. "Somalia, Yemen, United Arab Emirates," he said tonelessly, quoting the data running through his head, "Kenya, Indonesia." He slowly brought his arm up, the cold gleam in his eye returning, rage starting to seep into his voice as he continued. "Over a dozen freighters and other ships were lost during the Indian Ocean. But he was just getting started, wasn't he? Mexico City, all those planes fallen out of sky around it and then you had the incident in Houston. Do you know that the total body count from all of those 'incidents' comes to over a million lives?"

Mirage seemed to miss the dangerous tone her son's voice took. "I tried to warn them, David...tried to stop them before-"

A blue tendril of energy suddenly lashed out and knocked her across the room.

"You 'tried' to stop them?" David hissed, ignoring the gasps and obscenities coming from his other guests. He was barely aware that Eddicott's aim seemed switch from Mirage to him for a second. Instead, he slowly walked towards his mother who started to get up from the floor. "No," he said, having a ZP field knock her back down to the floor with a wave of his hand. "Don't bother getting up."

"Kid," Dicker warned, pulling out his own sidearm and pointing it at David. "You don't want to do this."

David ignored him, keeping his attention on his mother. "Tell me, _Mother_, what is it about me that has _you people_ thinking over a million people dying is acceptable _collateral damage_?" When she refused to answer, he sent another bolt of ZP energy into her body, causing her to spasm uncontrollably. "Tell me!"

Helen was about to spring into action and pull the young man away from Mirage. She may not not have liked Mirage, but she couldn't just stand by and let Syndrome's bastard torture the woman. However, she was stopped by Bob who put an arm out to block her.

"Wait," he whispered.

"Bob...what.."

"Just let this play out," he said.

Reluctantly, Helen listened to her husband and stood there as Mirage cried out in pain.

"Because you're a threat to everything!" Mirage screamed. "They can't control you," she managed gasp as the blue ZP energy dissipated, "you aren't one of their Genesis specimens and they don't like the fact that you have knowledge from The Artifact floating around in your brain. To them, you're more dangerous than Pine because you...know...everything!"

For a moment, David's face was full of rage and he brought his arm up again, the gauntlet glowing an electric blue and arcs of ZP energy dancing around his clenched fist like a miniature lightning storm. There was no mistaking the murderous look of intent in his eyes and Mirage saw something that truly horrified her: David Pine Flynn was just like his father.

Then she looked on in shock as Flynn suddenly turned his head to glance over at Dicker. "Did you get that?" he asked, his anger gone, but replaced by amusement.

Dicker lowered his weapon, as did Eddicott. "The Artifact, Genesis...you were right, kid," Dicker said.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Eddicott said, "but I have to admit you gave a convincing performance."

"Thank you," David said, grinning as he turned back to face Mirage who pulled herself back up on her knees. "But it wasn't that difficult since the emotions are real."

"You...you played me?" Mirage couldn't believe it. "It...this...all of them," she gestured at the room as she stood back up, "it was all an act?"

David shook his head. "Not really, everyone here had a right to know what's going on and I don't really like you. But the true purpose of this meeting, in addition to sharing information, was to lure you...or whoever Jake was working for...out of hiding. While I provided them with enough evidence and Dicker was here to back my claims, I figured some of the doubters here wouldn't fully believe me without full proof of the conspiracy...so...here you are, backing my claims. Thank you very much."

Dueling emotions warred within Mirage. She detested it when people used or manipulated her, and yet her son did it so masterfully and beautifully that she couldn't help feeling some sense of pride at that. "How long did you know that Buddy was alive?" she finally asked.

"I didn't," David replied. "I mean, I suspected, but I preferred to have proof and you confirmed it." Then his smile faded. "But I don't like the fact that your people were so damn desperate to release a monster just to get me."

Mirage's eyes widened in surprise when the realization hit her. "You...you really don't know, do you? You don't know what your are?"

"A science experiment created using your DNA and Buddy Pine'?" David laughed bitterly. "Oh, I know about that...I even know about the damn expiration date coming in ten or twelve years."

"Expiration date?" Now Mirage was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"If it makes you feel better, lady, I'll be dying around that time," David said. "If you had left me alone, I would have been out of your hair in the next decade...but no, you wanted to play God. Over a million people are dead because of your decisions and I'm guessing millions more are going to die because he's not gonna' stop coming after me, is he?"

Mirage didn't answer, she was too stricken by the information David had given her. "You're dying?" she finally managed to ask.

"Yeah, pretty ironic when you think about it, isn't it?" Then the smile returned to David's face. "You can't stop the inevitable, but you can act in 'the here and now', right? So, you're here, your powers have been temporarily neutralized, so Director Dicker and Major General Eddicott over there can fight over who gets to take you into custody first and subject you to a little bit of old-school rendition. Normally, that would bother me; but since you're a soulless bitch, I'm not going to lose any sleep over it...in fact, I think I'll be sleeping like a baby knowing that you'll be rotting away in some dark hole somewhere."

This time, it was Mirage's turn to smile. "You don't really think it will be that easy, do you?"

"Didn't say it was easy," David said, "but it doesn't change the fact that we've got you."

"No," Mirage said, still shaking her head as brought up her hand, showing a tiny little black box clutched between her fingers, "you don't." She pressed a button on the box and a glowing white portal suddenly formed behind her. "But well played though," she laughed as she fell backwards.

David tried to use his ZP gauntlet to catch his escaping mother, and had succeeded in grabbing her for a moment, the tendril of energy wrapping around her like a whip...until the portal suddenly closed, severing the connection. For a moment, David was pissed because Mirage had escaped his carefully laid trap. But he also couldn't help being impressed by what he had just witnessed. "Well...shit...she had teleportation technology...that was unexpected."

* * *

Another hour later and after some more detailed discussion, most of the guests had left the board room; some joined the party down stairs while others like Rousseau, General Eddicott, the Kilmartens, and Lucius Best left the building. However, Helen and her husband stayed behind along with Agent Dicker who seemed to be mentally struggling with a decision as David Flynn powered down and removed the metal bracer on his right fore-arm. As usual, the Native American man called Null seemed to hang out in the background, helping himself to a bottle of water from the mini-bar before leaning against a wall and watching everyone else in the room.

"So," Bob finally said after a few moments of awkward silence, "you did manage to replicate your father's technology." Helen could hear the mixture of curiosity, fear, and anger in her husband's voice.

"Yeah," David chuckled as he held up the bracer. "Unfortunately, if I kept up that little light show in there, the power-cell might have over loaded and I'd be fried to a crisp by the backlash."

"But we've seen you use that device," Helen said angrily, "and you seemed to have no problem when you used it against me or others."

"Yeah...and in case you haven't noticed, it was a few seconds at a time. I do anything continuously for more than five minutes, it could get really ugly." He then gave them a knowing grin. "Although, I will confess I'm getting close to working that bug out...but don't expect me to go batshit crazy like HE did." He gestured at the hologram of Buddy Pine still standing there. "Oh shit...forgot about that, sorry." He snapped his fingers and Buddy Pine exploded into a billion pixels like shattered glass, the "fragments" dissipating as they fell to the ground.

"You enjoyed that a little too much, didn't you?" Null asked, still leaning against the wall by the mini-bar.

David nodded and laughed. "Yeah, I suppose I did," he admitted, "just a little bit." He then looked over at Bob and Helen. "So, Mr. and Mrs. Parr, you two are still here. I take it you have some more questions or is this the part where you get all hostile and take a swing at me?"

Helen felt herself starting to rise at the obvious bait, but managed to keep from actually slapping the smug little bastard across the face. "Don't tempt me," Helen warned. "What happened tonight doesn't change a thing between us."

"Good to know," David fired back. "But, your opinion of me, like your drama queen son's, means shit to me."

"That's enough," Bob growled as he stepped between the two of them, "from both of you." He looked over at his wife. "Helen, I'll deal with this."

"But Bob..."

"As long as you're here, he's just going to keep goading you."

For a moment, Helen looked like she was going to ignore her husband's request and stay. Then she caught the faint nod from Dicker. "Fine," she said, "I'll wait downstairs."

"I'll show you out," Null said, pushing off from the wall and walking up alongside her.

"Of course you will," Helen said, trying to reel in her irritation and failing miserably. "Always the obedient guard dog, aren't you?"

Null ignored the barb and opened the door for her, giving her a slightly exaggerated bow. "Right this way, Your Majesty," he drawled.

David grinned and shook his head as he watched Null and Helen Parr leave. However, when the door closed behind them, his grin faded a little. "You know," he said, "it's mostly an act, but I really don't like your wife, especially since she's so quick to rush to judgment."

"And you shouldn't be goading her like that," Bob growled. "And for the record...I don't think too highly of you either." Then his expression softened a little. "But I still owe you for saving my little girl..."

"But you still don't trust me because of who I am and what I might do," David finished for him. Bob nodded and David shrugged. "Fair enough."

"I just want to know two things."

"Ask away."

"I need to know," Bob said, hesitating for moment, "that threat you made to Brian Paladino...did you mean it?"

David didn't immediately answer, instead he just gave Bob a smug grin.

"I know about the crew you hired in the Czech Republic," Dicker rasped disapprovingly.

David turned to look at the old man rolling his eyes in irritation. "Well, Violet lived, they still got paid regardless, and Lydia Paladino is currently hiding out somewhere in Germany, thinking I can't track her." Then he looked back to Bob. "And if Lydia and her brother have a functioning brain cell left between the two of them, it will tell them to stay the hell away from me and they will actually listen to it."

"Don't you think that's overkill and going too far?"

"Maybe it is." David's tone softened, but the anger was still there. "She's your daughter, Mr. Parr, and I think even you would want some vengeance, but that's just my opinion. However, Violet is a very close friend." He paused for a moment when he realized the dangerous look Bob was giving him when he said that. "No, not like that!" He shook his head. "C'mon...get your mind out of the gutter, why does everyone seem to believe that all us young people think about is hooking up?"

"Well, let's see," Bob said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She's 21, you're 18 or 19...you're both young..."

"Yeah, and if I chased after her, you'd probably throw me through a jet engine."

"Your father survived."

"And then you'd probably run what came out the jet engine into a wood chipper, then mix the remains into a bed of concrete, and then probably drop the concrete slab into the Marianas Trench somewhere."

For a moment, Bob said nothing, trying not to laugh at what David just said. "You thought a lot about this, haven't you?" he finally asked.

"Ever since I met her...but that's not the other major question you want to ask me, is it?"

"No," Bob said hesitantly, not sure how he wanted to put this next question. "I guess what I want to know is your ultimate 'endgame' in all this? Yeah, you showed us a lot of scary things, most of which are no doubt heading our way and you want to form a coalition against them, but what do you intend to accomplish?"

To Bob's surprise, David laughed, shaking his head. "You, Mr. Parr, despite what the general public thinks of you, are clearly not the clueless muscle-bound brick they perceive Mr. Incredible to be. You're right, there is an 'endgame', and...believe it or not...Violet asked me that question already. However, I'm not sure you're going to like it." He then pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at Dicker. "I know he certainly won't."

"I don't like it, kid," Dicker confirmed, "and I'm not ready to hand the island over to you yet."

"The island?" Bob's eyes widened when he realized what David and Dicker were talking about. "You want your father's island back," he half-growled, remembering the last time he and his family were on that damn chunk of rock.

"Of course," David said. "And eventually, I'll get it back...especially after what that bitch I don't want to think of as my mother said to me. The way she kept talking about 'The Artifact' and how I supposedly 'know everything'...that bothers me." He walked over and sat down in one of the chairs. "Because," he continued as he leaned back a little in the chair, "contrary to popular belief, I don't know everything."

"But you know about 'The Artifact' and its contents, kid."

"Yeah, Dicker, SOME of the contents," David sighed, tapping the side of his head, "it's up here but it's all garbled. Sure the data was shoved into brain, but it's a mess." He paused for a second as he tried to figure a way to explain it. "Imagine my brain is like a box and Buddy Pine wanted to smuggle a one thousand year old statue, but realized the statue didn't fit; so he broke off the arms, legs, and head and was able to fit all the pieces in there. The Artifact data is like that...shattered, scattered, and sometimes I can piece things together." Then his expression darkened as he remembered something. "That link to Aeon's network during the Redfield incident helped a little, but there's still a shit-load of stuff still garbled and floating around in here."

"Okay," Bob said, now confused at the sudden shift in the conversation. "This Artifact...what is it, exactly? I've heard you two mention it, but you both seem reluctant to talk about it."

Both David and Dicker shared a look for a moment. After a moment, Dicker spoke up. "You don't want to know, Bob," he finally said.

"Excuse me, after everything my family's been through, don't you think I deserve to know something?"

"Let me put it this way, Mr. Parr," David said. "This is something even I don't like messing with. We're not even sure what it is exactly except that it was found by Aeon back in the 1930s. It's hard to describe because even now it's still-"

"It's still a mystery to us, Bob," Dicker interrupted. David was about to object, but the old man gave him a cold look that told him to keep quiet. "I'm sorry, Bob, but even the kid here hasn't been able to figure out most of it."

Bob looked like he was about to push the issue, but realized it would be futile since Dicker pretty much killed the discussion. "Fine," he said. "But one last thing. Flynn...what you told your mo-Mirage earlier...you said you were dying?"

David got up out of his chair and gave Bob a curious look. "Forgive me, Mr. Parr, but do I detect some sympathy from you?"

Bob refused to rise to the bait. He could tell now that the kid was hiding his own pain behind the facade of a smart-ass. "How long do you have?" he asked softly.

"About ten years," David replied with a shrug. "It's kind of ironic, actually...the power that makes me the near god-like being that I am...is killing me."

"Who all knows this?" Dicker asked.

"Well, aside from you two, Null, Mirage, Neil, Doctor Cox, anyone who might have been paying attention to my little argument with Mirage, and...well.." David hesitated a moment before he finished, "and Divis Mal."

Bob couldn't believe what he just heard. "Mal knows?" he asked. "When did you talk to him?"

"Um, yeah...met him back when we were first renovating this building. I was kind of surprised that the alleged 'leader' of the Teragen decided to talk to little 'ol me. However, when I think about it, I got the impression I was sort of a side trip." David paused for a moment as he remembered that meeting. "To be honest, his visit to me seemed more like an afterthought than anything else." Then he shook his head. "But it doesn't matter, I got other things to worry about and I'm certain Mal has something 'Teragen-y' to worry about."

Dicker raised an eyebrow. "Teragen-y?" he repeated, amusement in his voice.

David shrugged. "Well, what else does he do, I doubt he came all this way just to make a social call." Then he saw Bob and Dicker glance at each other for a moment. "Okay...am I missing something?" he asked.

"Need to know, kid," Dicker chuckled dryly. "And you don't."

Now David was curious. "You do realize with my ability, I'd figure it out within a day or two," he said, failing to notice the look on Bob's face when he said it.

"You'll do no such thing," Bob warned him, "unless you want my family as enemies."

David met Bob's glare with his easygoing smile. "You do realize that your sudden hostility at this point in the conversation actually tells me that I'm on to something, right? Besides, two members already see me as the enemy." His smile faded and he sadly shook his head. "We all have our secrets, Mr. Parr," he said, "and if you really think I'm the kind of person who would waste his time digging through the Parr family closet for secrets, then you don't know me at all."

"But you just said that-" Bob stopped himself and glared at David again. "You played me just like you did Mirage...you said something to get a reaction out of me."

"Guilty as charged," David said. His smile had returned, but it seemed forced.

"That could get you killed eventually, kid," Dicker warned.

"Well, seeing as how there's been multiple attempts on my life lately and I'm already riding a death clock, I'm not really concerned about that." David then started to walk towards the exit. "Gentlemen, it's been fun; but now that I've gotten the creepy/scary conspiracy meeting done for the night, I have a party to host."

"She doesn't know," Bob suddenly said.

David suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Zoe Kilmarten," Bob said again, "she doesn't know about your condition, does she?"

David didn't turn around, but he bowed his head slightly. "It's none of her business, Mr. Parr," he finally said. "She's got her life ahead of her and I'm not about to drag her down."

This time, Dicker stepped forward. "Your hacking of some of various medical research firms, private, public, Utopia's," he said, "and you involvement with the Saunders'...you're trying to find a cure for your condition, aren't you, kid?"

David stood there for a moment and said nothing. Then he suddenly turned around to look at both men and clasped his hands together as if he were in the middle of a casual conversation. "Gentlemen," he said again, "this discussion has been highly entertaining but, as I said, I have a party to host. Perhaps we can discuss this particular topic another time."

"Just one thing before we go, kid." Dicker reached into his coat and pulled out a tiny plastic cylinder similar to the ones that were used to store camera film before the digital camera made such items obsolete. He then tossed the cylinder to David who caught it with right hand. "I'm not about to hand you the island yet, but someone told me to give you this when you were ready." Then the old man looked at Bob. "Come on, Bob," he said, "we'll see ourselves out."

Bob was about to object but caught the warning on his old friend's face. He nodded and started to follow Dicker out of the room. They had both walked past David and were almost to the door when the boy spoke.

"What is this?" David asked, holding the plastic cylinder in his hand and looking at it.

Dicker paused in the doorway and smiled. "It's glue, kid."

"Glue?"

Dicker tapped the side of his head and smiled. "To help patch that 'one-thousand year old statue' together and, just maybe, it might help you in the long run."

David's eyes suddenly widened in realization at what Dicker meant and, this time, his smile was genuine. "Thank you," he said softly.

Dicker nodded and he and Bob left the room. For the next few minutes, David just stood there, holding the plastic container. Finally, he opened the container and dumped the tiny golden chip into his hand. Though he was certain it was just the dimmed lighting in the room, it looked as if the chip was glowing a little on its own.

"Glue," he said after a few more seconds of looking at the chip, "I only hope it's enough." He waved his hand and a three-dimensional projection of Mirage appeared in front of him. "And then, _'Mother'_," he said to the hologram, "I'll find out why your people think I'm worth a couple waves of genocide...I just hope the world lasts that long."


	48. Of Agendas, Questions, and Retribution

Disclaimer: Aberrant, owned by White Wolf. The Incredibles, owned by Brad Bird and Pixar. "Everybody wants to rule the world" written and owned by Tears for Fears.

Author's Notes: Okay...we are coming close to wrapping this monstrosity up. Again, not too sure about this chapter, but I was operating on little sleep when writing chunks of it. Anyway, as usual, thanks to all the crazy people who have been reading this story.

* * *

_"Nha Nguyen, also known as the cyberkinetic nova 'Lady Ion', had been identified as the person responsible for the crash of over a hundred networks around the world, particularly in the Asia-Pacific Rim over the last week. A former employee for ViaSoft and a consultant for Project Utopia, Ms. Nguyen was responsible for many of the technological advances made by ViaSoft and Utopia's Irridium Electronics. However, despite the amount of evidence against her, authorities have yet to determine what made a promising young woman with the world at her feet decide to go rogue..."_

-N!Channel News

_"Though Caestus Pax is currently being detained at an undisclosed location, representatives for PRIMUS have assured the United Nations that his rights have not been violated. Despite attempts to meet with the imprisoned nova, Project Utopia has been denied access. The United Nations on behalf of Project Utopia, have also been denied a chance to meet with Caestus Pax. When asked about this situation, PRIMUS Director Robert Kaufman assured everyone that Pax would be permitted visitors and allowed to speak with UN and Utopia representatives in preparation for his trial which will be held in Fort Hood, Texas."_

-MSNBC News

_"This is bullshit! Caestus Pax is a hero, a former US marine who helped make the world a better place, and now you have some far right yahoos who want to fucking crucify him as a proxy for Utopia. But that's okay...we know who these people are and we'll deal with them eventually."_

-Seth Montaine, The Seth Montaine Show, Air America

* * *

10 November 2006

Suite 5

The Amp Room Club

Ibiza, Spain

2000 Hrs

Count Raoul Cristobal Orzaiz, despite the image he displayed to the public, never really considered himself part of the "rich aristocratic class". Yes, he was born a member of some obscure Basque nobility that could trace its lineage back to the days of the Roman Empire, but that didn't carry much weight these days when just about anyone with the right set of smarts, ability, and a ingenuity could amass as much wealth as an ancient king from medieval times. And yes, he was an intelligent man with abilities and ingenuity and that was before he erupted a few years ago and discovered he was a nova. No, what made "Count Orazaiz" wasn't his wealth or his social standing; it was his attitude and personality. He could have been born a street thug and Raoul was certain that his natural charisma and outgoing personality would still have brought him fame and notoriety.

What amazed him, however, was the fact some of his fellow Teragen members actually bought into the act he put on to the general public. Apparently, most of the rank and file, as well as key members of the inner circle, actually believed he was that foppish and arrogant nova playboy who acted like losing a fortune that could fund some small countries at a Monaco casino in one day was "just another day at the office". Only Mal, Scripture, and perhaps Santiago, knew that a calculating and cunning individual lurked beneath that foppish façade. Outside the Teragen, there were only two others who knew or at least suspected the truth about him. One of those individuals was David Pine Flynn.

As he poured himself a glass of wine from the suite's mini-bar, Raoul remembered the gift David Flynn had given him a week after they parted ways in Mexico City. When he opened up the package that had somehow arrived at his villa outside of Monte Carlo before he even arrived, the contents amused him. Three volumes of Alexandre Dumas' "The Count of Monte Cristo", in their original French language, printed in 1892 and in good condition, now sat on a shelf in his library at Castle Orzaiz. At first glance, Raoul had thought David Flynn was being capricious, but it was the note that was folded up and inside the first volume that really got his attention.

It was a simple note, but the message was clear: "No one or nothing is as they seem."

Raoul remembered laughing in amusement at that as he remembered the protagonist of the story that pretended to be a member of snobby elitist nobility while carefully studying his enemies before taking them down one-by-one. He was not bothered at all by the fact that the boy saw through his façade and made that comparison. In fact, his already favorable opinion of Flynn had risen because of the young man's actions.

However, it was not David Pine Flynn who had requested an audience with him this evening. Instead, it was that other person who saw the Count for who he was; and Raoul certainly did not particularly enjoy dealing with this individual. And given who this person was, there was no way he was going to allow them to set foot in Castle Orzaiz; which is why he booked a suite here at the Amp Room.

He glanced over his shoulder for a moment to see that the room was still empty. A quick look at his gold pocket watch informed him that it was now one minute after eight in the evening. He took a sip of wine, but didn't bother turning around before he said, "I know you're not one to be late for an appointment, so show yourself and let us get this over with."

A woman's soft laugh echoed slightly through the room. "Now, Raoul, is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

Raoul turned around to face the platinum haired woman standing a few feet away from him, a wine glass of her own in one hand. He didn't hide behind his usual 'carefree and fun-loving aristocrat' façade, preferring to show real emotion. "You're no friend of mine, Mirage," he said before taking another sip of his wine. "Your connection to me is through my parents. They may have sold themselves out to your little faction, but I did not."

"They did not sell themselves out, Raoul," Mirage said. "They believed in a cause and supported it."

Raoul shook his head in disgust. "Spare me the rhetoric, Mirage. PSI was nothing but a glorified group of criminals suffering from delusions of power and grandeur. In the end, they were just pawns to a greater power and easily discarded when they were discovered." He smirked at her, tilting his head slightly. "I suppose you were protected because your loyalties were to your true masters and not PSI."

"Careful, Raoul," Mirage raised a finger in warning, "people who make accusations like that tend to disappear. I would hate to see your wild conspiracy theories contribute to your demise."

"You threats are meaningless to me, my dear lady," Raoul chuckled, "especially given the intel David Flynn was so generous in providing to everyone. Given the black eye he gave Utopia and the mess caused by Caestus Pax, your people must be in full fledged damage control. Yes, you could target me, but your resources are already spread really thin and I doubt you would be ready to risk a war with the Teragen at this time just by coming after me."

"You overrate your importance in your little club, Raoul," Mirage sneered. "Some see you as a glorified playboy and would welcome your removal from their ranks and the chance to add to their powerbase."

"Maybe, but I would also make a good martyr for the cause as well," Raoul countered. "So, please, let us dispense with the threats and tell me why you wanted to meet."

"Very well," Mirage said, setting her wine glass on a nearby table, "I am calling in the favor your family owes me."

"Given the fact you betrayed my parents and they died, I think it's safe to say that I owe you nothing and that 'favor' is, as they say, 'null and void'."

Mirage grinned at him. "Oh, it's very much in effect," she said. "After all, you're still alive, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

Mirage laughed and shook her head. "Come now, Raoul. You were the son of two known members of a secret cabal that tried to take over the world back in the 80s." A malicious gleam appeared in her eyes as her smile became more predatory. "PRIMUS and various other world agencies dismantled PSI, imprisoned or killed several of its members. Did you ever wonder why they never came after you? Granted you were barely more than a boy at the time, but that wouldn't have prevented them from making you 'disappear' even if you were from a wealthy and powerful family. No, Raoul, you are living and breathing because I protected you and you know it."

Despite the veiled threat in the woman's voice, Raoul smiled at her and took a half step back as if to study her. "Still having a bad week, are we?" he asked, his smile getting bigger. "Let me guess…the family reunion didn't go very well, did it?"

"How did…" Mirage stopped herself in mid-sentence, her brief moment of surprise vanishing as she realized how the Count had known. "Of course," she said, "David's been in contact with you or, more likely, that pompous idiot Synapse."

Raoul shook his head. "Actually, no," he replied. "Keep in mind that I have enhanced senses. His scent is similar to yours, hinting that you are related. While it is public knowledge who David Flynn's father is, his mother's identity was kept from the public." He sat down in one of the suite's leather chairs, but did not take his eyes off the woman. "He shares some facial features of his father, but his eyes, his temperament, physical shape, and natural movements are more like yours." He then finished off the rest of the wine his glass and placed it on a small end table next to the chair. "Although," he continued, "I'm sure he's inherited some of his father's personality traits as well as yours." He frowned as a puzzling thought crossed his mind. "But if that's the case, he seems to be lacking the inherent cowardliness from both parents…now that is very odd."

"Choose your words carefully, Count," Mirage hissed, her cool façade briefly slipping. "You know my threats are not empty ones."

"No," Raoul confessed, still smiling. "But if you kill me, then I can't do whatever it is you want me to do." He leaned slightly forward in his chair. "So, let's get to business…what do you really want from me?"

For a moment, Mirage seemed to hesitate. "What I want," she finally said, "is for you to help my…son." She couldn't believe how hard it was to say the word "son".

"I'm sorry," Orzaiz said, "could you say that one more time?"

"You heard me, Raoul," Mirage snapped.

"Oh, I did…but I can't help being surprised that you actually acknowledged him as your 'son'." Raoul smiled again, but there was no warmth to it. "Could it be…the legendary Mirage actually cares about something other than the goals of those who control her?" He shook his head again. "Say it isn't so; emotional weakness, from you? Definitely not something I thought possible."

Mirage glared at him. "Are you through gloating?" she asked.

"I don't gloat," Raoul replied, "I am merely making an observation. However, you want me to help your son…why?"

Mirage's anger faded and she looked down at the ground. "There's something coming, Raoul, some would say it's the inevitable war between novas and humans, followed by other wars, but this is something different." She looked back up at Raoul again, fear in her eyes as well as her voice when she spoke. "We have ways of knowing how the future could be, possible outcomes, and we took steps to insure that we would make some of those outcomes could become reality. But now…everything has changed…things have deviated due to unknown variables and unexpected events."

"You tried to play God, and realized it wasn't that easy," Raoul summarized. "Let me guess, from what you've told me, and from a discussion I had with a couple of my associates, you had a window or two to the future and, in the tradition of most science fiction clichés, corrupted the timeline."

Mirage's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How much do you know, Raoul?"

"About Aeon and their ultimate goals, none, but the actions of your masters and those of your pet minions in charge of Project Utopia are pretty damn frightening." He laughed and shook his head again. "And your people would have the world believe that we are the 'villains'."

"You didn't answer my question, Raoul."

"No, I did not, but let's just say Mal told us about some of Aeon's past indiscretions and how the organization went downhill near the end of the second world war."

This time, it was Mirage's turn to laugh. "Oh, is that all?"

"From your reaction, should I assume there's something more?"

"Raoul, you have no idea," Mirage said, her fear returning. "You talked about us playing God and, to a degree, you are right. But what's coming, it's bigger than us; we opened a Pandora's Box and we cannot close it." Then she glanced down at the ground again as anger filtered into voice. "Though some are quite content to just leave it open and let it tear everything down so they can start over from scratch."

"And what does this have to do with the boy?"

Mirage looked at him for a moment, a calculating look in her eye that told Raoul that she was mentally debating on revealing a secret. "I won't lie to you, Raoul," she finally said. "Your 'windows to the future' comment isn't too far off the mark. David Flynn's presence, along with other anomalies over the last couple decades, has knocked everything on its ear. His surfacing in public this last year and his actions threaten plans that have been in effect for a long time. Some of my associates want to contain this threat by having him eliminated; but the course of action they have selected is akin to the cure being worse than the disease. Then there are other associates of mine who, while not happy with the current developments, are willing to let this fire burn out of control and watch it consume most of their enemies before moving in to finish off whoever is left standing."

Raoul said nothing for a few seconds. Instead, he mentally processed what Mirage had told him and he didn't appreciate the fact that some of Mirage's information seemed to correlate with the discussions he had with Santiago and Scripture.

_No,_ he thought to himself, _our nature can not be dictated by equations, theories, or predetermined actions._

After a couple more seconds, he looked back up at Mirage. "So tell me, what side do you stand with?"

The question momentarily caught Mirage off guard. "What do you mean?" she finally asked.

"Well," Raoul said, slowly standing up out of his chair, "you made it clear that there are two sides; those that wish to eliminate the threat to their plans and those that want to watch everything burn down before they rebuild." He picked up his empty glass off the end table and walked back to the mini-bar to pour himself some more wine. "Which side do you represent?"

"Neither," Mirage replied. "But make no mistake; I'm not trying to help my 'son' out of motherly concern. The truth of the matter is that he hates me. His presence and actions, along with those of others, have taken us into uncharted territory where the outcome is unknown. I just want to make sure the outcome is one that we all survive."

"And I suppose you would want it to end in your favor so you can carry out your own agenda?"

Mirage smiled at him again. "Why should I bother denying it, Raoul? Of course, I have my own plans and, like yours, I feel they have a better chance of coming to fruition of David Flynn succeeds in whatever he has planned."

"Whatever he has planned," Raoul repeated, nodding his head as the realization sank in. "You don't know what his agenda is, either, do you?" He paused for a moment to take another sip from his wineglass before he continued. "And that's what really scares you and all your associates, isn't it?"

"Just do what you can to aid him, Raoul," Mirage snapped, her irritation at him returning.

"And after that, we're even?" Raoul asked. "No more favors?"

Mirage brought up her hand and Raoul could see her holding what appeared to be a tiny remote-control device. She pushed a button on it and what appeared to be a glowing white portal suddenly flashed into existence behind her. "Not only that," she said as she took a step back into the portal, "you might even be allowed to live." And then the portal silently flashed out of existence, momentarily blinding Raoul. A few seconds later, his vision cleared and found himself once again the suite's only occupant. He took another sip of wine and looked at the space where Mirage had been standing.

"Then why do I have a hard time believing you?"

* * *

_**10 November 2006**_

_**Metroville, California**_

_**1400 Hrs. PST**_

Violet stepped into David's office and found herself standing amid a swirl of lights, symbols, and the occasional line of computer code as they flashed through the air via three dimensional holographic projection. It took her half a second to regain her bearings and for her eyes to adjust to the otherwise darkened room that was only illuminated by the holographic projections. She could make a silhouette in the middle of the room and walked toward the person. Glancing around, she realized that what she had walked through was one of several floating "data windows" of varying size that surrounded the person in the office. She then returned attention to the room's occupant and shook her head as the pink haired woman was grinning from ear to ear like a child who had been let loose in a candy store.

"Having fun, are we?" she asked.

Zoe Kilmarten giggled and took a sip of the mocha she was holding in one hand. "Oh…I soooo can't wait when David puts these systems in our offices. This must be what it is like for him…to be linked to multiple locations and networks all at once." She gestured at the floating windows surrounding them. "I'm only doing twelve major connections right now…David…he has hundreds, no...thousands of these things going though his mind all at once. I wonder how he manages it."

"Lots of Advil?" Violet offered.

Zoe shook her head and laughed. "Oh my god," she said in mock horror, "Violet Parr cracking a joke? I know near-death experiences can change someone, but this is too much…who are you and what have you done to the real Emo-Girl?"

"Zoe, I don't have time for this," Violet sighed in annoyance. "Where's David?"

"Okay, I take that back," Zoe said. "The annoyed sigh, the blunt question...you are definitely the real you. To be honest, I don't know where he and Null went, but he mentioned something about dealing with a loose end." Then her expression softened a little. "So…how are you feeling?"

"Annoyed, actually," Violet replied, "because I'm getting sick and tired of people asking me that question or acting like they're walking on eggshells while they're around me."

"Well, can you blame them? I mean you got shot and nearly died."

"Oh, believe me; I know that since I'm certain I was there when it happened and if anyone should be acting a little weird about it, it would be me."

"And you aren't disappointing anyone on that front," Zoe snickered, "but acting a little weird is SOP around here…welcome to the club. But seriously, and I'm asking as a…friend…how are you doing?"

This time it was Violet's turn to laugh. "Okay," she said, "saying that word must have really hurt."

"It did," Zoe admitted, "a little. Just don't make me say it again. But seriously, you had us worried there. David went ballistic when you got shot."

"Yeah, I heard about what he did at the UN." Violet still couldn't believe what had David had done. "I even heard he almost got killed on the net trying to avenge me."

"Yeah," said Zoe, "he tends to take it personally when people he cares about get hurt." She snapped her fingers and one of the windows suddenly moved to float a couple feet in front of the two women, displaying a file on the T2M nova Firewing. "For example, he has this data-packet on Kari McKeen on stand-by in case she tries to come after you or me again."

"What's in the file?" Violet asked. "After all, everyone knows Kari McKeen is Firewing; what more could David do to her?"

"That's just it; the public just knows the basic stuff about Firewing, stuff like her real name, where she grew up, and all that sort of stuff that Utopia allowed to be put on the net. But this data-packet, should she try anything, would be uploaded on the net and anyone who knows how to use Yahoo or Google would be able to find ANYTHING about her, her family, her friends, her bank accounts, their bank accounts, and all their locations." Zoe grinned at that. "And, as you know, McKeen has made her share of enemies who would just love to get their hands on that info."

Violet wasn't sure how she should feel about that. Yes, Kari had been something of a bitch and a pain in the ass to Violet and her family since she erupted, but even Violet didn't like the idea that David was blackmailing her to keep her in line. On the other hand, she couldn't help feeling a little touched at what David was willing to do to protect his friends. She was about to say something about that to Zoe when she happened to glance at one of the other data windows flashing various bits of obscure coding and symbols.

Then, suddenly, for a moment, she wasn't in the room, but on a beach somewhere…Divis Mal burning something into her arm.

_Remember, Violet, remember this symbol._

And, just as suddenly, she was back in the office standing with Zoe, looking at that symbol along with others flashing through one of the data windows. "Zoe, if you don't me asking, what's with the symbols? I'm no programmer, but that doesn't look like programming code to me."

Zoe looked over at the window Violet was talking about and, with another wave of her hand, had made Kari McKeen's data-window vanish and pulled up Violet's window, expanding it to the size of a sixty inch screen. "Damn, these would be awesome for movie nights," Zoe giggled. "And you would be mostly correct. As you can see, the one half is a bunch of those funky symbols, and the other half is me running various decryption protocols to figure out what the hell David gave me."

"He doesn't know?"

Zoe gave Violet an odd look. "Violet, David may know a lot of things. He knows computers, electronics, networks, three or four different spoken languages, the entire script of 'Army of Darkness' by heart, the lyrics to Pink Floyd's 'Learning to Fly', US and International business and commerce laws, and seven strategic nerve points on my body that...when hit a certain way...can leave me in a semi lust-filled and euphoric state and begging him to take me. However, given his expanded knowledge and abilities, he, contrary to popular belief, does not know everything because, if he did, he would not be having me utilize various decryption programs of my own design along with other programs to crack this puzzle he decided to drop in my lap."

The next few seconds were filled with silence as Violet blinked a couple times while trying to process the stream of Zoe-rambling she had been subjected to. "O-kay," she finally said. "I think that was a little more information than I needed to know." She pointed at some of the symbols that got her attention. "But those symbols on the left...ancient Greek, right?"

"Well, yeah, but it's also part of the wingdings font you might find in most word processor programs and pretty common symbols used to stand for just about anything when encrypting something." Zoe almost sounded annoyed. "They mean nothing, those two symbols...Alpha and Omega...beginning and the end of the Greek Alphabet. That's basic knowledge, any kid in elementary school knows that." Then she paused for a moment before adding, "Well...at least those who didn't go to grade school in Southern California."

"Um...excuse me, I'm a product of the Southern California education system."

"And you still turned out reasonably intelligent," Zoe snickered. "Although the same can't be said about your brother, Dash. He must have inherited the stupid gene."

"Hey, back off," Violet snapped. "He may be a jerk, but he is my brother." She reached out at the Alpha symbol which glowed at her touch and a copy of it followed her hand as she pulled it out of the window. "Okay," she said, staring at the glowing symbol now hovering in front of her, "this is cool."

"I know, right?" Zoe laughed. "I soooo want one of these in my office." Then she noticed that Violet was still staring at the Alpha symbol. "Um...Vi...are you okay."

"Yeah," Violet said after a couple seconds. "It's just that this symbol and," she pointed at Omega, "that symbol...I've seen them both before somewhere." Then she shook her head and dismissed the Alpha with a wave of her hand, causing it to dissipate. "Never mind...I guess I'm still recovering from the whole 'almost dying' part." She then looked over at Zoe again, curious about something else. "About that other thing you mentioned, were you just being a smart ass or were you being serious?"

Zoe smile became an evil grin. "Maybe it's a little bit of both," she said, "and he can do this thing with his tongue that-"

"Too much information, Zoe," Violet said, shuddering slightly as Zoe's words brought up a scary mental image of herself and David having wild sex in her office. She shook her head and mentally willed that image to what she hoped was the equivalent of an incinerator would never surface in her thoughts again. That was when she saw Zoe smirking at her. "Not cool," she grumbled as she walked out of the office, Zoe's snickering laughter following her out.

* * *

_**Byrd Foods Factory**_

_**(Abandoned)**_

_**Castroville, California**_

Castroville, California was an unassuming place in the state of California. With a population just shy of seven thousand, it was known more for its farming communities and various food processing plants. It wasn't a very large town and many people drove through it, dismissing it as just some slowly dwindling farming community or a spot in the middle of their journey to refuel their gas tanks. On the outskirts of town, it was not uncommon to see long abandoned or boarded up factories that were waiting for that inevitable day when some developer or city planner would have it knocked down and rezoned for some project.

The Byrd Foods Factory was one such factory, but bureaucratic red-tape, government ineptness, and other political blunders made it certain the factory wouldn't even be looked at until sometime in 2010. In short, it was the perfect place for Nha Nguyen to hide; in fact, it was the only place she had left that had not been compromised in the last week since various black-ops teams started coming after her. At first, she thought it was Thetis and Proteus who had betrayed her, dropping her location to the Chinese. However, after a brief cell-phone conversation with Director Thetis (where Thetis denied Nha's accusation and then fired her), she received a text from an unknown sender with one simple message: "It's payback time, bitch...start running."

In the last five days alone, Nha had burned through over a dozen false identities and fled across the United States as fourteen of her seventeen safe houses she had set up were attacked by "unknown" covert assault teams. A couple of the teams were with the US government, but most of them (from what she was able to determine) were Chinese However, it didn't take a mega-genius to figure out who was behind her current situation.

David Pine Flynn.

She knew the little shit was good, but she didn't think he would sink so low as to give her location to the Chinese and let them deal with her. Although, when she thought about it, it would be safer for Flynn to have the Chinese and other agencies go after her instead of himself since he was probably worried that she might have another version of "soul-killer" waiting for him in case he tried to track her. In other words, the little shit was afraid of her and what she could do to him...that's why he was hiding behind others and letting them do his dirty work.

However, that fact was of little comfort for her since she was the one on the run and was now hiding in what used to be the plant manager's office of an abandoned old food processing plant that she had purchased from a government auction a couple years ago. She had a couple back-up generators set up in the adjoining room and a desktop computer with a remote connection. She had erected enough firewalls on the thing and set up enough encryption on the building's security network that would melt down any hacker's computer. In addition, she had a version of "Soul-Killer" set up in case someone like Flynn showed up. And yet, when she looked out the office window and at deserted parking lot, she got the feeling that she was not alone.

She had been so careful...no one could have found her. When she checked her "safe-zone" upon arriving several hours ago, there was no sign that anyone had been here. All her security measures were operating smoothly.

Then she heard a hiss of air that echoed out in the hallway...like the sound of a soda can being opened. She checked her security cameras and saw nothing in the hallway...although there seemed to be some fuzzy distortion near what used to be the employee lounge.

_Impossible...how could they have found me?_

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she heard a vaguely familiar voice, but it sounded odd.

Nha reached for the .45 automatic she had, flipping the safety off. "Who's there?"

"Oh, c'mon, Nha. You know damn well who this is," the voice slurred.

"Flynn?" Nha couldn't believe it, David Flynn was here? She was angry and yet she couldn't believe her luck. She set the .45 down and picked up what looked like a cross between an LED flashlight and a television remote. Then she exited the office and entered the hallway where she saw him standing there, wearing a long overcoat and drinking a bottle of Pepsi.

"Well, well," Flynn said, swaying slightly as he spoke, "look who it is...the bitch who tried to kill me." He then stopped swaying and shook his head. "Whoa...still feeling a little loopy from this."

"Flynn, what the hell are you doing here?" she asked, her thumb pushing a button on the device she held, activating it.

"What does it look like," Flynn replied, "I'm meeting the bitch who tried to kill me and giving her a chance to redeem herself before I do something we'll both regret." He staggered a few steps in her direction before awkwardly leaning against a wall. "Damn...my equilibrium is shot to hell, but what do you expect?" He pushed off the wall and put his arms out to balance himself out.

"How did you find me?" Nha asked, wondering if David's condition came from his encounter with the Soul-Killer program.

Flynn chuckled again and shook his head. "I didn't," he said, the dim lighting of the hallway making his smile look even more sinister than it was. "When your enemy goes to ground, deny them any ground to go to," he quoted. "Or some shit like that…not sure who said it. Under normal circumstances, I'd be able to mentally pull it up and confirm that it was Sun Tzu or some other dead smart warrior philosopher guy, but right now," he tapped the side of his forehead with his Pepsi bottle, "I'm a little wonky in the head at the moment."

"I bet," Nha sneered. "It seems you didn't emerge from Soul-Killer unscathed, did you?"

Flynn paused, staring off into space for a moment as if he were contemplating an answer before nodding. "You're right about that," he admitted, seemingly half-dazed as he took a couple steps forward. "Your little program did a fucking number on me, I'll give you that." Then he suddenly brought his other arm up to reveal he was holding what appeared to be a flashgun to a camera from a decade earlier except it was clearly modified with some advanced tech. "But I got better," he said, his voice suddenly sounding clear and lucid."

Instinctively, Nha brought her own device up. "Don't even try it, Flynn. This device was built especially for someone like you. Come any closer, I pull the trigger and an even nastier version of Soul-Killer gets unleashed and I watch your body become a vegetable as its link to your brain is severed while you're on line." Though to be honest, Nha was planning to fire it anyway. But before she did, she had to know something. "You didn't answer my question. How did you find me?"

"Like I said," Flynn replied, not even showing any sign of fear at the device Nha was pointing at him, "I didn't. Yeah, we found a list of your safe-houses, and I gave most of those locations to the Chinese, and a couple to the NSA; but I intentionally kept this location, your little condo in Maui, and the beach house in Bora Bora alone." He smiled at her again. "After all, I think Bora Bora would be a nice place to celebrate my girlfriend's birthday next year."

Nha couldn't believe it, Flynn had played her, manipulated her. The NSA and Chinese strike teams hitting her safe house locations were just a diversion, meant to bring her to him and she was too busy being on the run to figure it out. "How long were you waiting for me?"

Flynn shrugged. "Oh, not that long…only about a few hours before you got here. I figured I'd let you set things up and try to get yourself comfortable before I revealed my presence here." He then nodded at the device in Nha's hand. "So, you designed that little device for someone like me, I'm flattered."

"Yeah, well, once I've dealt with you, I think dealing with the others will be easier. But out of curiosity, what's that device in your hand?"

"Oh, this?" Flynn asked, waving his device around for a moment. "It's what I call the Ultimate De-Gausser for the ultimate hard drive system…or, in layman's terms, I call it my EBS."

"EBS?"

"Electronic Boom Stick."

This time, Nha couldn't help laughing at that. "Electronic Boom Stick? Don't you think you have just a little too high opinion of yourself?"

"You're one to talk," Flynn countered, re-pointing the EBS at her. "After all, I did some digging up on you."

"And what did you find?"

"It was enough to make me throw up for a couple hours. I gotta' ask, all those murders you committed for Thetis…how do you sleep at night?"

Nha smiled at him again. "You'd have a hard time proving any of those were murders, Mr. Flynn. After all…a killer stalking people in the real world from cyberspace…shit like that only happens in the movies." She then gave him a predatory grin. "And this is where you die." She pulled the trigger on her device and a green LED flashed, indicating it had sent the programming code at its target. Within seconds of discharge, Flynn would drop to the ground, his body in a comatose state.

Except, a couple seconds later, Flynn was still standing and he was still pointing his own device at her. He shook his head slightly and gave her a sad smile. "You should have used the .45," he said as he pushed a button and there was a bright flash that momentarily blinded Nha.

However, something else happened. In addition to being momentarily blinded, Nha suddenly felt a tingling sensation in her arms and legs as her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. When her vision cleared a few seconds later, she saw Flynn standing over her, shaking his head. She tried to bring the "Soul-Killer" gun up, but found that she couldn't move.

"Wh…what did you do…to me?" she managed to say, wondering why she was starting to have a difficult time speaking. And that device in her hand…what was its purpose, why was she needing it?

Flynn knelt down next to her and gently pulled the item out of her hand. "You're probably wondering what's happening to you right now," he said, a hint of regret in his voice. "Like I told you, it's the ultimate de-gausser for ultimate hard drive…your mind."

Nha's eyes widened in horror. _No!_

"Not exactly one of my better inventions," Flynn continued, "and to be honest with you, it was originally designed to be used against me in case I…you know…ended up like my father and decided to go over the deep end. You see, I don't fully trust myself, so I created a couple fail-safes and gave them to a few people to work on, customize, and keep on hand just in case I went bat-shit insane. This device…well...it's experimental and I haven't quite worked the bugs out of it. It's supposed to wipe out certain memory centers of the brain, but…well…it's supposed to be controlled sections as opposed to this relatively quick and total rapid unspooling of your brain that you're going through right now. The first thing to go was your balance and mobility control and then it all comes crashing down from there."

Nha tried to say something, but all that game out was gibberish. "Whgtrysyng…"

"What's that?" Flynn asked. "Oh, sorry…that must be your language processing center going out of whack. But that's okay, you should be able to comprehend me for a couple more minutes before nothing really matters anymore to you. By the way, in case you're wondering how I survived your little 'Soul-Killer', I want to show you something." He brushed back the hair the right side of his head to show a small glowing disc attached to his temple. "Quantum dampener," he said, "combine that with the healthy dose of electrical shock treatment and my power is knocked offline for a bit and your little device is about as dangerous as a broken television remote."

It was taking all of her efforts to concentrate on…on…who was this man she was talking to? Her mind was all hazy, she was having a hard time trying to make out what he was saying, having a hard time trying to…trying to remember…remember…who…she…was.

"Anyway," the man continued, "I know destroying that brain of yours means wiping out all the important shit you've got, but I figure it's probably safer not letting anymore of your sick and twisted shit ever being unleashed on the world again. Sure, Utopia will find someone elestub.. ythe wnt'o be sadngeraous sa uyo…"

The man's speaking became a dull buzz of gibberish and the human female that had once been Nha Nguyen ceased to be that woman as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her world completely vanished into a white haze.

David looked down at the comatose woman, shaking his head sadly. "What a waste," he said, "a brilliant mind, and now you're nothing but a complete blank."

"You did what you had to, David," said Null, stepping out of the shadows to join David and putting an assuring hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You sure about that?" David asked, pointing down at the now drooling body that had once been one of Proteus' most dangerous operatives. "I would have thought that I'd feel some sort of vengeful satisfaction over this, but I feel like I just finished cleaning a dirty toilet and now I'm stuck with the stench."

"Then take a shower," Null said. "You knew there was no way she was going to back down and that she was going to kill you when you confronted her."

"Yeah, but she had a treasure trove of info in that head of hers, what a waste." David sighed, then put his EBS back in his coat and brought up the device he had taken from Nha. "This is the last we have of Soul Killer, Null."

Null was expecting David to drop the device on the ground and crush it with his foot, but was shocked when his friend handed it to him. "Um, David, what are you doing?'

"As much as I'd like to destroy it, I can't," David said. "Take that device to Zemke, tell him to study it, reverse engineer it, and make a better version of it."

"Whoa, Zemke? The Technician?" Null couldn't believe what David was suggesting. "You do realize that he can do exactly what you're asking him to do, right?"

"Yeah, I know," David replied. "And when he does succeed, tell him to hide that device deep and keep it hidden from me. I don't need to know about it." He then reached up and pulled off the quantum dampener that was attached to his head and turned it off. He shook his head again, wincing slightly as he did so. "Damn…I really hated it doing that, it was like riding a roller-coaster and experiencing a migraine while listening to Ozzy singing "Crazy Train".

"You gonna' be okay?"

David reached up and rubbed the sides of his forehead as his mind mentally linked back up with the rest of the digital world, the sudden buzzing and stream of information, washing away the migraine the way a sudden flash flood would wash away a pile of dirt. "Oh yeah," he said, "now I will be."

"So what are we going to do with her?" Null asked, pointing at unconscious woman on the ground. "Leave her here?"

David shook his head. "No," he said, "take her outside to a safe distance and leave her there…I'll be out in a few minutes."

Null nodded, picked up the unconscious woman off the ground, and proceeded down the hall to the exit, leaving David alone.

David waited a couple more minutes until he was certain Null was clear of the building, then he headed towards the little office Nha' computer was. For a moment, he was tempted to link up to the computer to see what data Nha had on her computer but decided against it. He had faced the Soul-Killer program once, he had no desire to face it again and had no doubt that Nha had a version of it on that computer.

He shook his head again, smiling sadly as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small block of C-4 with a timer on it. "Such a waste," he said, setting the timer and then walking out of the room. "But we can't always get what we want."

Five minutes later, David was walking over to where Null was waiting for him along with the two four-wheeled ATVs that they had hidden behind some old produce drums and covered with a beat up and dusty old tarp. Nha's drooling and comatose body was propped up against a pile of old tires a few feet away.

"Well," Null said as he straddled his ATV and turned the key, bringing it to life, "shall we depart?"

"Hold on," David said as he put his own helmet on and keyed the wireless link to his cell-phone and dialed a number.

"What do you want, kid?" rasped the voice of Rick Dicker.

"Just thought I'd let you know that we've tracked down Nha Nguyen and you will find her at the coordinates I'm making the call from," David said. "Oh, and you better hurry."

"Why's that?"

"Because, well, she's not in very good condition and I'm making this call unprotected which means there will be other party guests here because I know they are listening. I just thought I'd give you first crack." He then killed the link and chuckled at Null. "Okay, now we can leave," he said, turning the key to the ATV. Null laughed out loud and gunned his engine before taking off. However, before he took off after Null, David keyed on the MP3 Player in his helmet and grinned as an old Tears for Fears song began to play.

"_Welcome to your life…_

_There's no turning back…_

_Even while we sleep…_

_We will find you..."_

David gunned his own ATV's engine a couple times and followed out after Null, singing along.

_"Acting on your best behavior…_

_Turn your back on mother nature…_

_Everybody wants to rule the world…"_

Behind them, the main building of the old processing plant housing Nha Nguyen's computer and generators exploded.


	49. Of Gods and Monsters

Disclaimer: Incredibles owned by Brad Bird and Pixar. Aberrant owned by White Wolf Games.

Author's Notes: Not sure if I'm happy with this chapter or not. I tried to cram as much as I could into this chapter because...well...this is the final chapter of "War of Angels". However...this is NOT the end. The story will continue in "War of Angels: Defiance and Insurrection".

* * *

"_Within a period of a few short months, events have taken place, falling within a pattern. Utopia's war with David Flynn, the attack on Mexico City by a man called Gabriel, and Caestus Pax's razing of downtown Houston...the pieces are falling into place. Once, there was a time when I had hoped that we would bring down the corruptive force that is Project Utopia, but now...now I fear that there are players in this game that have yet to be revealed. Some would call me crazy or paranoid, but you cannot ignore the patterns...they serve as evidence that there is something else going on that we are not fully aware of."_

-From the private journal of Pedro Santiago, "The Mathematician"

* * *

**_13 November 2006_**

**_Western Washington University_**

**_Bellingham, Washington_**

Jason Maynard didn't fit the standard mold of a professor at Western Washington University. He didn't drive some fancy car, he didn't dress like some stuck up and arrogant intellectual, he didn't look down upon students as sheep to be indoctrinated, and he certainly wasn't the kind of professor who would intentionally give a student a bad grade if they had a different view so long as they presented a valid argument to support it.

In fact Jason Maynard almost looked like a student himself. With his hair tied back in a short pony-tail, wearing shorts, a WWU t-shirt, and New Balance running shoes, he could easily have passed for someone in his twenties instead of a forty-three year old teacher of anthropology. At the moment, he was running across the Western campus, completing his usual four mile run which ended at the university's aquatic center where he would swim for two miles. It was a ritual he did twice a day, five days a week, for the last couple decades.

He reached the Aquatic Center at approximately 5:40 PM, pretty much his usual time give or take a few minutes. As usual, he waved at one of the lifeguards on duty, an Economics major named Ben who worked at the center to pay for part of his tuition. "Hey, Ben," he said as he walked by the life-guard station. "How's it going?"

"Not too bad, Professor," the young man replied. "Slow night, only about eight people. By the way, caught your lecture the other night…the one about novas and gods…really messed up stuff, but an interesting idea."

"You don't think it's just another crackpot theory?"

"Professor, as far as crackpot theories go, yours sounds sane compared to some of the crap they talk about these days."

"At least I know you're being honest with me," Jason chuckled. "If you were one of my students, I'd say you were trying to suck up to me."

Ben shook his head. "Nah, not my style," he said, his face breaking into a grin. "Although I have a roommate who has already taken your speech and, along with some of his other fellow fanboys, are talking about using your idea as a concept for a web-comic."

"Great," Jason muttered, rolling his eyes, "with my luck they'll turn it into a TV series and I won't get any credit for it." He kept walking and entered the faculty locker room. It was almost six in the evening, the locker room was empty since most of the faculty was elsewhere on a Friday night.

_Probably at one of Bruce Shephard's stupid parties for the snobby elite, _Jason thought as he opened up his locker and pulled off his shirt, shoes, and socks. He paused for a moment and realized, given his salary, he probably would fall into that category of the 'snobby intellectual elite' he liked to poke fun at.

_Then again, I don't waste my money on lavish homes and expensive clothes and cars while trying to talk down to people and tell them how I believe the world works. Hmm…I wonder if that's why the university president doesn't invite me to his parties. Oh well...it's not like I'm missing anything._

He shook his head again, throwing his clothes into the locker and closing the door before he headed towards the exit that led to the pool. A nice hard swim would clear his head.

"Doctor Maynard?"

Jason stopped and turned around to see a catholic priest standing there a few feet behind him.

_Now where the hell did you come from?_

"Yes," Jason said, wondering how the man even managed to sneak in. "That's me."

The priest nodded, though Jason was wondering if he was mistaken in assuming the man was a priest. Yes, the man wore the black pants, shoes, shirt and jacket of a priest, but the white minister's collar was missing. "Good," the man replied, extending his hand, "my name is Jeremiah and I wish to talk to you about your lecture concerning novas and the gods of myth."

_Oh no,_ Jason inwardly groaned, _one of my students complained to their priest. _But he still shook the man's hand and managed to put on a fake smile. "I didn't mean any offense, Father," he said, "merely throwing out some wild theory to snap some students out of their half-comatose state of mind."

"Please," the other man said, "call me Jeremiah; I haven't gone by the title 'Father' for a few years now." He then gestured at his clothing. "Although, I guess when one is used to dressing a certain way for almost a couple decades, old habits die hard." He then smiled. "So you can relax, I'm not here to preach at you and condemn your soul to the deepest parts of hell for blasphemy."

There was something about the way the man talked and moved that set Jason on edge a little. Yes, this Jeremiah might have been a priest at one time, but Jason felt there was something else to the man. "So, what can I do for you, Fa-er…Jeremiah? No offense, but you kind of showed up in the middle of my usual daily ritual."

"None taken, but we do need to talk about your lecture. While I confess that there are some who take what you say as blasphemy, they are not the ones you should be worried about."

"Really, that kind of sucks," Jason said. "I kind of like it when religious radicals go nuts, reveals the true nutjobs to the rest of the world. It also makes people think."

"As I said, the 'religious radicals' are not the ones you should be worried about." Jeremiah reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope that he handed to Jason. "I apologize for giving these to you in an archaic way, but we don't trust sending stuff like this electronically nowadays."

Curious, Jason took the envelope and opened it. The half dozen photographs he examined over the next couple minutes had completely wiped out whatever plans he had made for a quiet evening, especially when he began reading some of the inscriptions that he could make out on the object in the photograph. "Okay," he said, trying not to let his skepticism show too much in his voice, "I don't mean to sound suspicious, but are these real?"

Jeremiah smiled and nodded. "It's okay, Doctor Maynard, but I can understand your caution. But tell me, what do you see?"

"Well, from observation, it's an item shaped to be like the Greek character Alpha from the Greek alphabet. Some of the inscriptions are in ancient Greek, along with bits of Latin, Sumerian, and Egyptian hieroglyphics. Okay…are those Nordic runes as well?"

"Indeed they are," Jeremiah's smile got bigger. "Now look at the symbols we focused on in the last picture."

Jason looked at the characters Jeremiah was referring to and frowned. When he had first seen them, he had dismissed them as scratches. However, after looking them again, they looked like a bunch of hash-marks and circles and seemed to wrap around the bottom of the left side of the object. "I'm not sure I recognize this language."

"Given your choice of profession, that is not surprising."

"What is it?"

"Before I tell you, I want to ask you to suspend your disbelief. Are you capable of doing that?"

"Given that I ask some of my students to do that and think outside the proverbial box most of the time, I think I can do that." Jason returned his attention to the weird markings. "It's just the groupings indicate some sort of language but the primitive markings don't offer much."

"Actually," Jeremiah chuckled, "that language is much newer than all the others on that object."

Jason looked up at Jeremiah in confusion. "I'm not following you," he said.

"And this is where I want you to suspend your disbelief. What if I told you that language isn't even a century old but was found on an item, when properly carbon dated, that was found to be at least two thousand years old?"

"No way," Jason said, looking at the first picture of the Alpha symbol again. "You're saying this item is from the time before Christ?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"But the various languages, the markings," Jason held up the last picture with the mystery language, "and this...what exactly is this?"

The older man reached up and pointed at the symbols of the mysterious language. "What do they look like to you?" he asked.

"A bunch of hash-marks and circles grouped in alternating patterns but part of a long line," Jason replied.

"You're not that far off." Jeremiah took the photo from him and held it up. "What if I told you that those were actually ones and zeros?"

"What do you mean?" But a moment after he asked the question, Jason's eyes widened in realization and he shook his head in disbelief. "No...way," he finally managed to say. "You mean that-"

"That's right, Doctor Maynard," Jeremiah laughed, "you are looking at something written in Binary."

Jason didn't know what to think. At first, he thought this was some sort of practical joke at his expense and, he had to admit, it was a damn good one if it was. But there was something about the photos and Jeremiah that told him that this was not a joke. "This is messed up," he said. "If you don't mind me asking, what does that Binary language say?"

"That's the strange part," Jeremiah said, "the others speak in more archaic terms appropriate to their times, but this is pretty straight forward. It says: 'The first of five'."

"The first of five," Jason repeated. "Five what? Components?"

"That's what we believe," Jeremiah said. "We've had others in our group look at the item, but we want you to look at it as well and translate all the markings. After all, anthropology and linguistics is more your specialty than ours."

"Wait, hold on." Jason couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you asking me to actually look at this item?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Why me? I mean, there are other people out there with more experience and influence than me."

"Because," Jeremiah Scripture replied, a gleam in his eyes as he spoke, "I suspect you are far closer to the truth than many of your contemporaries, Jason. But the question you should be asking yourself is if you're ready to face it?" He pulled a business card out of his coat and handed it Jason. "Think about it for a couple days, then give me a call."

Jason looked at the card and saw it was a business card for a fancy hotel in New York with a phone number written on the back. He looked back to to talk to his visitor. "What makes you...think...that..." His voice trailed off when realized he was once again by himself in the locker room, holding the business card in one hand and the photos in the other.

"What the hell?"

* * *

**_13 November 2006_**

**_Ottawa, Ontario_**

Gregory Paladino did not think of himself as a paranoid man; a little cautious, maybe, but never paranoid. Yes, he kept a .45 automatic under his pillow when he slept but that was when he was in a country outside the US or Canada (unless he was in Detroit). Most of the time, he would keep it in the drawer of his bedside table when he was at home. However, lately, he not only kept the .45 under his pillow but also made sure he had a knife or two on him at all times.

The last week and a half had been insane. Maria's sudden gunning down of various people in the newsroom before triggering a suicide vest that killed her, Ted, and a few others, the sudden personnel and policy shift at CTV…Greg felt like he was in a really bad conspiracy movie that one would normally find on the CBC. With Lloyd Roberston in stable, but still critical condition at Providence Medical, someone upstairs wasted no time pulling strings and making changes that the old man would have objected to.

With Lloyd still in a coma, Greg had expected Lisa LeFlamme to take over as senior anchor and news director. Though Greg didn't like her much personally ("arrogant and uptight bitch" was his opinion), Lisa was still fair and objective when it came to reporting the news. Like Ted and Greg, Lloyd had taken her under his wing and taught her to pretty much do his job should he take a vacation, call in sick, or retire. While she clashed with Ted and Greg a few times when she had filled in for Lloyd, it was never about story, but more about meeting deadlines and confirming multiple sources usually at the last minute.

After the explosion, Greg spent the night in the hospital, but promptly checked himself out. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he was being watched. This was confirmed when he got to his apartment and, with the help of his x-ray vision, discovered multiple surveillance devices that weren't there the day prior to the explosion. So he checked into a hotel that was near the hospital and checked on Lloyd periodically. He tried to call Lisa at her home to find out when he should report back to work, but kept getting her voice mail. After a couple hours, he decided to call the station and requested to talk to her.

That was when it got interesting, but not in a good way. He was informed by some air-headed bimbo (and not the usual professional secretary that screened Lisa's calls) that "Ms. LaFlamme is not available".

"Bullshit," he said, "then patch me into her voice mail."

"Sorry sir, but I am not authorized to do that."

Before Greg could fire back with some snide comment, he was immediately put on hold, but it didn't last long. A few seconds later, a stern female voice spoke. "Yes?"

Greg silently cursed when he recognized the voice belonging to the cold hearted and stone cold bitch known as Sandra Raldo. "Hello, Sandy," Greg said cheerfully, trying not to let the venom seep into his voice. "I think there was a mistake, I'm trying to get a hold of Lisa."

"Oh, Gregory," Raldo replied, her overly smarmy tone matching Greg's mock cheerfulness, "I'm so sorry...I guess you haven't heard."

"Heard what?"

"Lisa was in Montreal on assignment, investigating a Teragen connection to a story." Though Raldo sounded concerned, Greg didn't buy it for a moment. In fact, she was certain the bitch had a gleeful smile on her face as she spoke. "That firebombing of that hotel in Montreal last night...she was in that hotel and they haven't been able to find her remains."

Greg's mind reeled from that.

_She wasn't investigating a Teragen connection to a story, she was going to talk to a witness about Utopia's slow reaction to the incident in Mexico._

"However, I'm glad you checked in," Raldo continued. "It saves me the trouble."

Raldo's snide tone was enough to break Greg out of his shock about Lisa's death. "What trouble?" he asked.

Raldo didn't bother hiding her delight as she spoke. "Effective immediately, you are currently on suspension, with pay." Her delight faded slightly for a moment when she mentioned that Greg would still be collecting a paycheck. "Apparently, the higher-ups here at the network and Utopia investigators don't believe that you were involved in the attack here, but they still want to question you."

"Whoa, what?" Greg couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Excuse me, since when does Project Utopia start investigating crimes on Canadian soil?"

Raldo's answer chilled Greg to the bone. "What does it matter? If you're truly innocent, you have nothing to hide right? Or do you?"

_Fuck you, bitch!_

However, Greg managed to keep his cool. "Sandy, the only thing I try to hide is my disgust for you," he said, "you tell those 'investigators' that you're sucking up to that I'll be on my way to the station, but I'm going to check on Lloyd first. Bye."

He then closed the phone before Raldo could say anything.

_Damn, _he thought, _that felt good._

Then his phone rang.

_Great...now she's pissed...then again, I don't care._

He was tempted to just let it ring until he saw "Unlisted number" on the caller ID. Curious, he took the call. "Hello?"

"Greg, is that you?"

Greg almost drop the phone when he heard the woman's voice. After all, Raldo had just told him a few minutes earlier that the woman had died in Montreal. "Lisa? What the fu-"

"No time to talk about that," Lisa LeFlamme interrupted him. "I'm alive, but you need to get out of there now. They tried to kill me in Montreal, but I managed to escape with some help. Right now, you're the last loose end. You need to get out of there now. And ditch your phone."

Greg was tempted to take Lisa's advice. Running did seem like a good idea, except there was just one problem. "I can't do that, Lisa, not yet."

"Greg, I'm serious, they will kill you!"

"I know that...but I'm not the only loose end." Before Lisa could object, he killed the connection. For a moment, he did consider running but he knew he couldn't do that. He was not the only loose end that needed to be tied up and he sure as hell wasn't going to abandon someone he considered a friend.

_It's time to change the rules to their game._

He knew what he was planning to do was crazy, but it was the only way to catch these people off guard.

_Do something they aren't expecting, and they'll screw up trying to react to it._

He took a deep breath and activated his phone. He hit one button on the keypad to shut down the dial tone and paused for a moment.

_I hope this crazy idea works._

"Okay," he finally said. "I know you're monitoring this phone and probably tracking me. So here's the deal...we set up a meet and I will provide you with the remaining footage we shot in Mexico City. I will give you twenty seconds to answer; if I don't hear from you by then, I'm leaving town and I take the proof with me."

He then closed the phone and started counting down from twenty. He had reached three when the phone went off. He waited for it to ring twice before he took the call. "Yeah?"

"Lansdowne Park, Aberdeen Pavillion in twenty-four hours," a female voice said. "Just you." Then the connection went dead.

Despite the situation, Greg couldn't help smiling. Already, he had a crazy plan forming in his head. In the last couple years, he and Ted had made a lot of contacts with various people and organizations.

_Twenty-four hours to walk into an ambush...I think it's time to pay a visit to Chinatown and call in a few favors._

* * *

**_Robotics Lab_**

**_UCLA_**

**_2330 HRS._**

William Ackerman studied the other three men in the SUV with him for a moment before looking down at his watch. "Gentlemen," he finally said, "it's now half past eleven, our man is manning the security desk. We get in, we get Saunders and his daughter, get what we need from them, kill them, and get out…any questions?"

The others shook their heads and William smiled. The three men; Jones, McCormack, and Greggs…they were good men. All of them were ex-military and specialized in this kind of job, including their man on the inside, Jacobs, who was already employed at the university as a security guard and had no problem taking that shift.

_Fortune smiles on those who are prepared and trained,_ William thought.

Greggs raised his hand. "Okay, I know this sounds a little redundant, but how do you want us to end this?"

Were it coming from someone else other than Greggs, William would have had them killed for questioning the cause. However, Greggs was different. The wiry black man had a cold and calculating look in his eyes, very similar to what William would see when he looked at his own reflection in a mirror. Greggs was very good at covering tracks, making an assassination look like a random accident. Already, Williams could see that Greggs had a few plans in mind and as trying to determine which would be the most efficient.

"I'll leave that to you, Tyler," William chuckled. "You always seem to be at your best when I say 'get creative'…but just try to keep it within reason."

Greggs gave him a tiny grin and a wink. "Okay, no liquid nitrogen and a wood chipper…understood." Then his expression became serious. "I take it Saunders has got something very valuable."

"Very valuable," William replied, "something that will change the balance in our favor."

Greggs nodded in understanding. He knew that was all he was getting from his boss and that was enough. To push it would be considered bordering on disloyalty. "Well then," he said, "let's do this."

William and the others followed Greggs' lead, got out of the SUV and made their way towards the entrance of the building. The guard, Jacobs, nodded as he let them in and immediately killed the feed.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jacobs," Greggs said, "but this is going to hurt like a bitch."

"No pain, no gain," Jacobs chuckled as he raised his hands behind his head.

Greggs nodded, brought up the tazer in his hand and shot Jacobs with it. The large man dropped to the ground, thrashing for a couple seconds before losing consciousness. "Damn," Greggs said, "he took it at full charge and he was still thrashin' for a few seconds. Hope he doesn't wake up."

"That's enough, Greggs," William snapped as he stepped behind Jacobs' desk, tapped on the keyboard and brought up a map to the facility. "Okay, we got a location for Saunders' lab…let's go."

* * *

Bridgette watched the swirling gray liquid metallic mass in the cylinder that stood containment unit and shook her head. She knew that she was looking at basically billions of replicating nano-machines that were effectively in a "stand-by" mode, waiting for instructions. However, she had a hard time believing that the prototypes of those machines were actually in her own body. She couldn't believe her father had done that to her and the fact that he had done such a thing horrified her.

However, she also understood why he did it. He wasn't experimenting on his own daughter and he never treated her as a test subject. If anything, he went out of his way to protect her…even from the truth that he knew would inevitably come to light. She had always seen her father as a strong scientific type and she wanted to make him proud. But now, she realized that behind that mask was a scared and desperate man who wanted to save his little girl.

Part of her was angry at him for what he had done, he had no right. Another part of her was grateful that he did and understood what he had sacrificed and risked just to help her. It was those two opinions that warred within her when he entered the room. She didn't turn around to see him walk in the room, she could tell it was him from the way we walked, cowboy boots clacked on the polished floor when he walked. She never understood why her father wore cowboy boots and when asked his only reply was, "I just like them".

"You've been very quiet lately," he said, stopping just behind her. "After all you've learned in the last few days, I would have been expecting some angry outburst where you accused me of being a horrible person for what I had done to you. But instead…you've been mostly silent."

Bridgette sighed as she turned to face her father. "To be honest, Dad, I don't know what to think," she replied. "Half of me understands what you did and why and the other half," she gestured to the lab with her arms, "just wants to go nuts and tear this place apart for what you did." Then she looked around again and a tiny smiled formed on her lips. "Then again, this is millions of dollars of expensive lab equipment…probably not a good idea." Her smile faded a little. "However, I have to ask…if putting that nanotech inside me changed me…am I even human?"

To Bridgette's surprise, her father laughed softly and shook his head. "That's what's been bothering you?" he asked. He laughed for a couple seconds before looking at her again and she could see an expression on his face she had not been expecting, one of relief. "Bridgette," he said, "the nanos in your body are early proto-types. Their core programming was to repair and modify neural pathways in your brain and restore it to functioning levels. They are mostly inert and only go into full action when your brain experiences performance issues or experiences some sort of trauma." He smiled again. "The party you and your fellow hooligans threw after the robot wars tournament a couple years ago comes to mind."

Despite how she was feeling, Bridgette had to laugh at that memory. "Please don't remind me, the hangover was short but…wait…hold on, that was the nanos trying to kill the alcohol?"

"Indeed, which was probably good thing since you were under the legal drinking age at the time and one of the punks had slipped you enough Ecstasy to turn most young women amnesiac for the better part of a week." Then Aaron Saunders face darkened. "If you hadn't beaten the crap out of Timothy Coleson for his attempt to rape you, I would have done much worse to him."

"What, kill him?"

"No, destroy his academic future completely."

"Um…I think you already did that when you kicked him out of the university," Bridgette said. "He was forced to complete his degree at a community college…somewhere in Alabama. I heard he works for a cable company now."

"If I had my way, he wouldn't have been accepted at ANY college anywhere and he would be working at the local McDonalds…but alas…I showed him mercy and allowed some backwater hick town to admit him to their little college."

"But Alabama?"

"It was far enough away."

Bridgette laughed again and shook her head. "Damn, Dad, I knew you had a vindictive streak in you somewhere."

"We all have one, Bridgette, it just takes a certain trigger to activate it." Then Saunders' expression softened. "Look, the fact that you're torn about what happened to you…that's good because it just reinforces the fact that you are human." He then gestured at the nanites in the containment unit. "However, you're not the one who should be pondering that question."

Bridgette glanced over at the nanite containment unit for a moment before returning to look at her father. "Violet Parr."

"Yes, Violet Parr." Saunders' tone had become more somber. "I understand why you did what you did, Bridgette, but we have no idea what those nanites could do to human or a nova."

"I had set up a thorough extension of parameters in addition to the ones you had in the cyberline protocol."

"Even so, these nanites are adaptive. When activated, they learn, they evolve, implementing what they learn to carry out their main task. Miss Parr's abilities are constantly changing as she learns how to use her powers…the nanites now in her body are adapting to their new environment. They will constantly work to improve her body so it can cope with her changing abilities and recover from what injuries she may sustain."

"So, in other words," a new voice said behind them, "you created a 'super-nova' instead of a 'super-human'." Bridgette and her father both turned to see a man with dark brown hair tied back in a pony-tail dressed all in black standing in the doorway, flanked by two other men dressed all in black as well and carrying automatic rifles. "It's people like you, Doctor Saunders, who are responsible for humanity's near extinction."

Bridgette saw the fear on her father's face as he recognized the man. However, fear was replaced by anger when Saunders spoke. "Ackerman," he hissed. "For some reason, I'm not surprised."

"Oh, so you know who I am?" the man called Ackerman asked.

"Oh, I know a lot about your little group. Your kind has no business here."

Ackerman chuckled. "My 'kind'," he said, "listen to yourself, old man. You make it sound like you're part of some elite class or something. You're just as human as I am, but you're willing to sell your race out just for scientific progress."

"Spare me the rhetoric," Saunders snapped, "your little group is just a slick and repackaged version of the Church of Michael. In fact, I dare say you have more in common with the Nazis of Germany than they do."

One of the men flanking Ackerman, a black man, smirked. "Do I look like an Aryan idiot to you?"

"It's the twenty-first century," Saunders shot back, "even fascism and hatred aren't immune to diversity."

"I suppose you're right," Ackerman sighed, "but I don't subscribe to your line of thought."

Before Bridgette realized what was happening, all three men had raised up their weapons and fired. She had just enough time to register her father moving to jump in front of her before she suddenly felt a searing pain in her chest and back as the bullets tore through her, the impact knocking her back against the containment unit before she hit the ground. The next few seconds consisted of her trying to breathe while at the same time, the cylinder of nanites, fell out of the damaged containment unit and broke on the ground in front of her. The last thing she experienced was some of the lukewarm liquid metal sloshing against her body and then…

Oblivion.

* * *

_**Subject…Bridgette Saunders.**_

_**Life signs…body inactive…brain activity minimal...**_

_**Alert…prototype nanotechnology detected, emergency uplink requested…**_

_**Uplink established…initiating physical contact…storing active data…**_

_**Preparing raw material for nanotech production…**_

_**Begin…**_

* * *

William stood there for a few moments, studying the deceased Doctor Aaron Saunders and his daughter. "Well damn," he finally said, "that was kind of anti-climactic, wasn't it?" He then pulled out a knife and walked over to Saunders corpse while Jones walked over to one of the nearby terminals and Greggs began setting up explosive charges. "Okay, McCormack needs the late Doctor's eyes. Jones, get what you can off that work station. Greggs, how are you going to play this?"

Greggs shrugged as he set up his second charge. "We're going for arson, this time, boss. When we leave here, I'll be sending out a message that will link this 'attack' to Green Front. As far as everyone will be concerned, it will be the work of environmental whackos."

"Environmental whackos?" William repeated. "Greggs, are you losing your touch?"

"Nah," Greggs laughed, "but we're doing this on the fly, and since this state is teeming with those crazy types, it wouldn't be much of stretch to imagine a group like that doing something like this."

William smiled at that. "Okay, you got a point," he admitted as he knelt down and started to cut out Saunders' eyes. "How are you doing on that terminal, Jones?"

Jones had already pulled up some files on the workstation and had inserted a specialized thumb-drive in one of the USB ports. "The encryption program has already gotten me logged in. Looks like this was the girl's workstation; there's a lot of data here, lots of weird stuff."

"Take all of it then." William pulled a small plastic container out of his pocket and put Saunders' eyeballs in it. "I'll take these to McCormack and he can bypass the retinal scanner on Saunders' terminal." He then stood up and was about to turn to leave when he saw Bridgette Saunders body. "Well…look at this."

Both Greggs and Jones looked over at the dead woman and noticed that it was now surrounded by that silvery liquid that had spilled out of that cylinder when it broke on the ground.

"What the hell?" Greggs knelt down to look at the puddle, but was careful enough to make sure whatever that liquid was away from him. "Is it just me, or is that shit dissolving her clothing and skin…damn…look at her fingers, they're melting!"

"Interesting," Jones said, "this must be those nano-machines the girl was working on. It looks like their breaking her body down…dissolving it."

"Hmmm...okay, see if you can get a sample of that stuff," William said. "Then get the hell out and burn the lab." He then turned to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway for a moment to look over his shoulder. "And, for God's sake, whatever you do, don't get any of that crap on you."

* * *

Pain…pain and fear were the two things that registered with the entity. Images of three men shooting at it…pain…oblivion…and then pain upon becoming aware. Memories suddenly flooded the entity…memories, emotions, images, sights, sounds…this was new to the entity…or was it?

_**Raw material provided by Bridgette Saunders, ninety-seven percent consumed…. Prototype nanotechnology within subject's body has been upgraded and all data transferred…**_

_**Beginning physical parameter assessment…**_

* * *

"Shit," Greggs said as he looked down at the puddle of silvery goo that had all but dissolved the young woman they had shot twenty minutes ago. "That stuff works fast."

Jones nodded as he knelt down to look more closely at large puddle. "It does, but look at it. It's only dissolved the girl, and stayed mostly in one area. According to the reading I'm getting on her station…it's a controlled action, not rapidly expanding and trying to take everything."

"That's good to know," Greggs sighed with relief, "the last thing I want to worry about is suddenly unleashing the fucking Blob on everyone."

Greggs snickered as he grabbed a cylinder he had found in the lab. "You've been watching too many horror movies, my friend."

"Hey, man, that shit was scary. I may have been a little kid back in the 80s, but some of that stuff still creeps me out."

"Greggs, you're a professional killer. I've seen you do a lot of nasty shit. I can't believe some cheesy '80s movie still scares you."

"To this day, man, I can't even eat orange jello without freaking out."

* * *

The entity linked up to the security network of Bridgette Saunders' lab, allowing it to see and hear what was going on. It immediately recognized the two men as two of the three that had shot at it earlier.

_**Hostiles currently examining this entity…**_

_**Accessing external networks to access facial recognition…**_

_**Access...unavailable…**_

_**Saunders Robotics Lab has been taken off-grid via security authorization...Jacobs, Arthur…**_

_**Assessement…Arthur Jacobs was coerced or willingly allowed intruders access to lab…**_

_**Assessment...one hostile attempting to procure 'sample' of this entity…**_

_**Action to be taken…eliminate hostile threat…**_

* * *

Jones was still laughing. "Seriously? Orange Jello?"

"It's not funny, man!"

Jones shook his head again and returned his attention to the silver puddle. "Relax, Greggs, shit like this only happens in the movies, not real life." He then poked the silvery mass with piece of metal in hopes of scooping some of it in the storage cylinder. "And you really need to stop watching that kind of shi-"

Before Jones could finish his sentence, a silvery tendril suddenly shot out of the metallic puddle, wrapping around his neck and then sharply twisting it a hundred and eighty degrees to the side, snapping it like a twig. It then flung Jones' corpse into Greggs, knocking them both across the room.

* * *

The entity oozed itself upward, taking on a vaguely humanoid shape.

_**Assuming a more suitable physical form for conflict…**_

_**Hostile one eliminated…hostile two momentarily disabled…**_

The liquid metal creature turned its head and noticed the other corpse on the ground.

_**Subject Doctor Aaron Saunders…**_

_**Status…deceased…**_

_**Creator…**__Daddy?_

It ignored the moans coming from the second hostile who was starting to regain consciousness. Instead, the creature walked over and knelt down next to Saunders body, reaching out a silver hand to gently touch the dead man's face.

* * *

Greggs woke up and realized that Jones' dead body was on top of him. That's when he remembered what had just happened and immediately pushed the man's body off him and brought his assault rifle up to aim at whatever the hell that thing was now in the room. When his vision cleared he saw something that looked like a cross between one of those liquid metal terminator things from Terminator movies and something out of an HR Geiger painting. Currently, that thing, whatever it was, had its back turned to him and was kneeling next to the dead scientist's body.

He was about to fire when he saw the creature suddenly shift, its body beginning to take on a more defining shape and become smaller and more feminine. Seconds later, the silvery color was gone, replaced by pink flesh, leaving a naked woman cradling the head of her dead father.

"Daddy," the girl whimpered softly, "I'm so sorry…"

"What the fuck?" Greggs immediately regretted saying anything because the woman's head suddenly did a one-eighty and looked in his direction.

The woman's eyes suddenly glowed red. "You," she hissed angrily as she gently set Saunder's body back down to the ground and got up to turn around, her body beginning to take on a silvery sheen. "You did this!"

"Fuck this!" Greggs yelled as he opened fire on the creature as it took a couple step towards him. He emptied the entire magazine into the monster and smiled as it staggered back several feet. He popped out the empty magazine, slapped another one in, and proceeded to empty it was well into the creature that had dropped to its knees. "Not so tough now, are you, bitch?" He had just loaded another magazine when he noticed the creature rising/oozing back to its feet, its right arm shifting/changing shape into…a tri-barreled weapon. "Oh fu-" was all he managed to say before the bullets he had fired into the creature were fired back at him and ripped his body to shreds.

* * *

Things had been going fairly smoothly as far as William was concerned. Jones had managed to download some very interesting data from Bridgette Saunders' workstation while McCormack had just managed to break through the last of Aaron Saunders' firewalls and had begun to download the man's database. With use of the late Dr. Saunders' eyeballs, they were able to bypass the security system that would have deleted all of Saunders' files.

Then the gunfire told him that his carefully executed plan may have just gone straight to hell. He pulled his handset off his belt and spoke into it. "Greggs, Jones, what's going on down there?"

No response.

"Greggs, give me a sit-rep."

Again, no response.

"I thought they were the only ones here," McCormack said.

"They were," William replied. "I don't see how…" He was cut off when he saw the terminal screen flash momentarily before random data began to stream across it. "What the hell?"

"Shit!" McCormack immediately pulled the thumb-drive out of the terminal and handed it to William. "Hold onto that."

"Colin, what's going on?" William asked.

"Someone just logged in and is trying to corrupt the data we're downloading," McCormack explained. "I'm not sure how much we got, but I think I can salvage whatever we have, but whoever's here just made the rest of Saunders' research irretrievable."

"Who could do something like that?"

"Well…it would be Saunders himself or…" McCormack's voice trailed off.

"His daughter," William finished for him. "But we killed her."

"Then whoever it is, they're using her workstation to do it."

William was certain that both Aaron Saunders and Bridgette Saunders were dead. However, someone else had to be here.

_Someone…or something…we never truly knew what they were working on._

With the data corrupted and being unavailable, it didn't take him more than four seconds to come to a decision. "Okay," he said, "we'll take what he have, set up those charges, and lets get out of here."

Thirty seconds later, William and McCormack were running down a corridor when they heard what sounded like a scream behind them. They both turned and saw what appeared to be some sort of metallic monstrosity down at the far end, looking at them, studying them. Then it raised one of its arms and made a flinging motion in their direction. On instinct, William threw himself to the side, something that saved his life as he saw what appeared to be a pair of silvery tendrils that snaked past him and impaled McCormack in the chest before dragging him back down the corridor towards the creature. McCormack's body was halfway there when the tendrils ripped his body apart and retracted back into the creature.

"You!" It was a cold voice, almost sounded like a cross between a hiss and something being dragged across rough stone. "You killed us!"

William brought up his own assault rifle and opened fire on the thing, moving backwards towards the exit. The creature seemed to flinch slightly at the impact, but it still kept coming. It brought its own arm and William could see it seem to shift and morph into some sort of weapon.

Then the explosive charges in the building went off, causing sections of the building to collapse, the ceiling crumbling and coming down on the creature. William himself, lost his balance, but managed to get back on his feet and continue towards the exit. It was then that he realized that Greggs had must have finished setting up his explosives before that thing had killed him.

_And you always had them on a default setting and you wouldn't change them until after you checked in. You just saved my life, you crazy bastard…I just hope your sacrifice wasn't in vain._

A couple minutes later he had made his way to the lobby of the building and was out the front door when the rest of the explosives he had set in Saunders' station had gone off, turning the building into a blazing inferno. As he got into the SUV, however, he could have sworn he heard that creature scream again.

_But that's impossible,_ he thought as he started the vehicle and drove off, _not even most novas could survive something like that._

He was several blocks away a couple fire response vehicles drove by, followed by three or four police cruisers. He waited a couple more minutes and until he was further away when he pulled out his cell-phone and dialed a number.

"Yes."

"This is Ackerman, the mission was a partial success. I lost most of my team, but we managed to get a large chunk of data before we were compromised."

"Compromised? How?'

"Unknown," William replied. "I'm not sure what Saunders was working on, but we were attacked by something."

"And the Saunders?"

"Dead as requested."

"Very well, I will have a team meet with you at the designated rendezvous."

"Works for me, Ackerman out." William closed the phone and then pulled off his flak jacket and tossed it into the passenger seat. While he was part saddened about the loss of his crew, he also knew that they knew the risks just as he did. They died for the cause.

_And if this will help us get rid of the nova threat, then their sacrifices were worth it._

Unnoticed by William, two tiny silver droplets slowly faded into the jacket's material.


End file.
